Oedipus
by FM58
Summary: After the detection of a paradox within the space-time continuum, the White Guardian sends the Second and Tenth Doctors on a mission to secure the existence of the Brigadier. But this will have its own consequence... Dr Who/Dune Crossover
1. Prologue

Author's Notes: This is a rewrite of a Hero's Birth, and considering some of the confusion I've had on Spacebattles, I'll mention, just because the Brigadier hears the sound of the drums doesn't mean he's the Master.

"_It all began with dreams."_

_-Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart_

It was a warm day in Little Emling.

The Surrey village lay ten miles south of Guildford, the county town of the affluent county. It was quite small, having only a few houses, a post office and of course, a public house.

Less than half a mile away however there was an old Tudor estate, originally built and owned by a wealthy merchant during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. After that it had a variety of different owners before being purchased in 1896 by _The Rt Hon._ Richard Lethbridge-Stewart, former solider and a Conservative MP. And since then the estate had been owned by the Lethbridge-Stewart family, with the house eventually passing onto the current descendant.

A descendant who was approaching the twilight of his life.

Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart sat on his bench, staring out across the garden. A newspaper lay on his lap, as he took a sip from his glass of whiskey.

For the Brigadier, it was moments like these which made retirement so enjoyable. There were no impending alien invasions or rampant robots to worry about; just relaxing in his beautiful garden, drinking whiskey as he read his newspaper in peace.

"_No, my blood and thunder days are long past."_

It had been twenty one years since he had told Doris that. Ironically merely a day later, he was fighting against an army of knights from a parallel dimension, led by an insane sorceress who thought it was a good idea to unleash a planet devouring demon upon the world.

And then of course after that, UNIT were kind of enough to regularly pull him out of retirement and assign him to God knows where.

Nonetheless, 'the Brig' felt now what he told Doris all those years ago was true. His days of fighting Autons, Zygons and Daleks were long since over. He was now eighty one years old, and despite being in excellent shape for his age - as Doris often reminded him - it meant he was far too old to have an active role in UNIT, even if he wanted to.

The best he could do is advise, and that is exactly what the latest batch of UNIT recruits used him for. Using his many years of experience to advise UNIT divisions worldwide on how to deal with extraterrestrials and anything else which threatened the existence of the human race.

It was they who would take up the mantle of defending the Earth. But for the Brigadier, such times were over. He would live out the rest of his life in retirement, secluded from the troubles of a hostile universe.

Yet, something felt missing. His life somehow incomplete.

_Who am I?_

It was a thought which he believed had left him decades ago, in Port Said. Now recently it began to plague him, more frequently than ever.

_Who am I?_

The answer was seemingly obvious. He was Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart VC KBE, born in Mombasa, Kenya on February 12th 1929. Veteran of the Suez War, former CO of the Scots Guards and the British Contingent of UNIT. He'd fought Yetis, Silurians, Cybermen, Daleks and a host of other intergalactic menaces while at UNIT; assisted by an eccentric Time Lord who had a habit of changing his face.

But his identity felt like nothing more than a charade. At best a partial truth of something far greater, something which he could not put into words. And as of late, in the depths of his mind, he felt like there was something residing; something which had been dormant but was beginning to awaken.

_The Sleeper._

The Brigadier felt a chill go up his spine, terror encompassing every fibre of his being.

He shut his eyes, thinking deeply about how these doubts of identity arose.

_It had all began with dreams._

They'd begun when he was a child, well after his family returned to England. And to call them strange was an understatement.

He had dreamt of another world. A desert world, its surface of sand dunes, dust basins and mountain rages scorched by the searing hot sun. A world without precipitation, which meant even the slightest ounce of water was valued more greatly than any precious ore. A world inhabited by monsters; gigantic worms big enough to swallow an aircraft carrier.

And then of course were the people whom resided there, in the deep desert. People who he found to be particularly disturbing. They were tanned, clad in robes, and as he recalled from his dreams, they glided across the desert sands.

But what haunted him was their eyes; blue within blue, no trace of white within them. They were completely unnatural.

_Who are these people?_

By the time the War started the dreams had gone, but when he along with the rest of 3 PARA were dropped in Egypt during the Suez Crisis, they returned in earnest. More nightmarish then ever.

This time his dreams of this desert world were accompanied by an evil chuckle, and then a drumbeat.

A rhythm of four.

_Boom, boom, boom, boom._

_Boom, boom, boom, boom._

_Boom, boom, boom, boom._

And then there was a hand, an exquisitely shaped hand. A woman's hand.

A hand with a strange hieroglyph upon the palm.

_What on earth was it?_

The dreams then left him as suddenly as they came, but again they had returned.

The Brigadier couldn't explain it. The rational side of his mind told him these dreams, these thoughts were nothing more than a delusion. A psychoanalyst would tell him they were a neurosis from the unconscious, which had been caused by some forgotten event in childhood.

Of course, he didn't believe in that Freudian rubbish anyway, but nevertheless the rational part of him told him the dreams were merely just dreams.

But another part of his mind told him otherwise; the dreams, the Sleeper, even the doubts of his identity, possessed truth.

Truth that he was far more than what UNIT, the Doctor, Doris and even himself, believed him to be.

_Who am I?_


	2. Captain LethbridgeStewart

"_It all really began on the Ood Sphere in the 43rd__ century, in a timeline which now no longer exists. It is there where the Ood all began to have bad dreams."_

_- "Ascendancy" by RSM John Benton_

**The Ood Sphere, Horsehead Nebula, Milky Way - YEAR 4238 AD**

The Ood Sphere.

Located around one thousand five hundred light years away from Earth, the Ood Sphere orbited a binary star within the Horsehead Nebula. It was a cold, snow covered planet most commonly known for its native species, the Ood; a gestalt race of telepaths who had been enslaved by the Second Great and Bountiful Human Empire.

For two hundred years the Ood had been bred, lobotomised and then exported like mere cargo off world, becoming the 'willing' servants of the decadent upper classes. The Ood were seen to have the moral significance of cattle; a docile alien race who seemingly showed no objection to their predicament.

But one hundred years ago things had changed. The static barrier suppressing the Ood Brain had been deactivated, allowing the Ood to sing. A song was sung which echoed across all three galaxies of the Empire; a song of such of beauty and sadness, that the citizens of the Empire realised the terrible wrongs they had committed against the Ood.

The Ood were released from enslavement and were all sent back to the Ood Sphere, their home. And for the last hundred years they had begun rebuilding their society anew.

Ood Sigma stood waiting in the snow, at the bottom of a great valley. For hours he had stood there, not moving a muscle, waiting for the TARDIS he knew would soon arrive.

His prediction turned out to be correct, as moments later a great wheezing and groaning sound echoed around the valley.

Several seconds later the TARDIS had fully materialised, the wheezing and groaning of its engines ending in a almighty thump. The doors opened and out came the man Sigma had been waiting for, the Doctor.

"Aaah. Now, sorry, there you are," he said grinning at the Ood, before walking towards him. "So where were we? Ah yes, I was summoned wasn't I? Ood in the snow, calling to me. Well, I didn't exactly come straight here. Did some travelling about. Visited a few planets, got into a bit of trouble, you know me. It was brilliant though. I saw the Phosphorus Carousel of the Great Magellan Gestat. Named a planet from the Red Carnivorous Moor. Warned Gottfried Leibniz that his idea on monads wasn't terribly good. Didn't listen though did he? Bloody philosopher. Got married, now that was a mistake. Good Queen Bess. Now let me tell you her nickname is no longer… well, that accurate."

The Doctor paused for a brief moment, before saying more seriously, "Anyway. What do you want?"

"You should not have delayed," the Ood replied with the use of his translation sphere.

"Last time I was here, you told me my song would be ending soon," the Doctor answered, with a grave look upon his face. "And believe me, I'm in no hurry for that."

"You must come with me, Doctor."

"Come with you where?"

"To the city, Doctor."

"Aaaah, built yourself a city now, eh? You've certainly been busy."

Sigma ignored the eccentric Time Lord, merely turning around and walking up the hill behind him. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders, before clicking his fingers, which immediately locked the TARDIS.

_Handy tip from River that was,_ he thought, recalling what she had said about his future in the 'Library'.

_A future which now may not happen._

He then ran up the hill, catching up Sigma. The Ood was walking fast, meaning the Doctor had to walk briskly to keep up the pace. Not a word was spoken until they reached the top, where the Doctor asked, "So how old are you now, Sigma?"

"I cannot be sure of the exact figure, but I believe I am-"

But he was cut off, as the Doctor took in the sight before him; the magnificent Ood City.

"Oh, wow," the Doctor said, pulling a telescope out of his right dimensionally transcendental pocket. He brought it to his eye, observing the city in front of him. Spires, elegantly crafted out of ice, rose up out of the ground, interconnected by arches which themselves had been carved out of the ice. His attention then came to an arch made out of igneous rock, which lay across the abyss between the hill and the city; an arch whose use was clearly that of a bridge.

"Spectacular," the Doctor remarked, putting away his telescope. "That's a fine piece architecture you've got there, Sigma. I've seen better of course, quite naturally as a time traveller. Nonetheless, its spectacular! Fantastic even. And you achieved this in how long?"

"One hundred years."

There was silence for a moment, shock encompassing the Time Lord from the revelation Sigma had revealed.

"Then we've got a problem," the Doctor finally said. "Because this is all way too fast. Not just the city, but your ability to call me, all the way back to the 21st century. Something's accelerating your species. But what?"

"And the mind of the Ood is troubled," Sigma replied.

"Why? What's happened?"

"Every night, Doctor. Every night we have bad dreams."

**Surrey, England, UK, Earth - WEDNESDAY APRIL 21****st****, 2010 AD**

"Need I remind you, young Gordon," he recalled his grandfather saying, when he was but eight years old. "That I've fought Yetis, Daleks, Autons and a whole host of other interstellar threats."

"Don't fill Gordon's head with your stories, Dad," his mother had said, entering the library. "I think you remember very well what happened when he tried telling one of your stories at school."

"Bah, nonsense Sarah," his grandfather had replied. "He needs to know. Needs to know what's out there. We live in a hostile universe, a universe in which there exist countless alien races who want nothing more to exterminate, enslave or exploit us. And I'm too old, far too old to be fending them all off. It's up to Gordon, up to Gordon and his generation to take on the mantle. Protecting us all, until were ready to go out among the stars ourselves. This is the mantle he and his generation must take up, and I'm fully determined that he knows what to be ready for!"

And from that moment Gordon knew what his destiny was; to fulfil his legacy as a Lethbridge-Stewart and join UNIT, the very organisation his grandfather had helped found.

Seventeen years later, Captain Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart was now fulfilling the legacy passed onto him. Two years ago, after serving only a few months with the SAS, he was selected to become a soldier of the United Nations Intelligence Task Force. His grandfather, the legendary Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, was proud beyond belief upon hearing the news. So proud, he'd bought his grandson a Mercedes Benz.

"Should impress your comrades at UNIT eh, Gordon," his granddad, the 'Brig' had said. "I would have supported in you whatever you'd chosen to do," referring to the History degree which he'd completed at Durham University. "But this makes me so proud."

Two years later, Gordon was now driving that very car down a narrow country road. A country road, which he had hoped would have been a shortcut to his granddad's estate. Instead he was now running five minutes late.

_Though the funny thing is that granddad doesn't even know I'm coming_, the Captain thought to himself. _But I've got to speak, got to speak to him about those dreams I've been having._

Eventually he came to a "Give Way" junction, recognising the B road which he knew led to his grandfather's house. He waited for a moment, as a Peugeot 206 passed by travelling to the left, and then turned right at the junction.

A quarter of a mile later he finally arrived, turning left through the open iron gates and onto his grandfather's gravel driveway. He saw the front door open, and his step-grandmother, Doris come out as he parked the Mercedes next to his grandfather's jeep.

"Hello there, Doris," he said, as he got out and locked the car.

"Oh Gordon, its lovely to see you," she said, approaching her step-grandson and giving him a hug. "But why didn't you give us any warning? I've only prepared dinner for two."

"Well, it was a bit random to be honest," he replied. "Besides which, I'm not that hungry anyway," he continued, before bending down and giving Doris a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh Gordon, you're so charming," she giggled.

Doris then observed her step-grandson for a brief moment; he was tall, athletic and very handsome. He had his grandfather's brow line and jet black hair of his youth, though was rounder of face and had bright green eyes. He was dressed in his black UNIT paramilitary garb, with a UNIT red beret perched on his head. A sidearm was at his hip, a SIG P226 if she remembered correctly about what Alistair had told her about those UNIT firearms.

_He's certainly a looker, like Alistair was when he was younger,_ she thought, recalling when she had first met the Brigadier back in the 60's.

_Now that was a long time ago._

The Captain smiled and then asked, "Where's granddad by the way?"

"Oh, he's out in the back garden," she replied. "Been out there are all day. Come on I'll take you to him."

She led him through the house and then out into the beautiful garden his grandfather had planted. He remembered all those years ago, when as a child he used to play hide and seek with his grandfather in the garden; hiding behind a shrub or bush as his grandfather tried to look for him in vain.

_Such wonderful times._

"Alistair! Alistair!" Doris cried to her husband, who was sitting on 'his' bench thirty feet ahead.

The Brigadier slowly turned his head, before shouting back. "What on earth is it now, Doris? I'm sitting here, taking in- Good heavens!"

The Brigadier had noticed his grandson. He bolted off his bench and ran towards Gordon as fast as he could.

"Oh Gordon!" he cried, as he reached his grandson and gave him a huge bear hug. "Oh, it's so wonderful to see you."

"And you granddad. But do you really need to crush me to death?"

"Oh, sorry Gordon," the Brigadier apologised, releasing Gordon from his embrace. "I got carried away didn't I?"

Doris rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, what are you doing here, Gordon?" the Brigadier asked. "This all seems a bit out of the blue."

"I've got to speak to you about something," came the vague reply from the Brig's grandson.

"Which would be what exactly? Something your getting up to at UNIT?"

"Yes and no."

"Well I think better leave you gentlemen to it," Doris suddenly interrupted. "Would you care for some tea or coffee, Gordon?"

"Well no, but thanks for asking, Doris," Gordon replied.

Doris smiled before walking back to the house, leaving the Brigadier and his protégé alone on the grass.

"So what is it you want to talk about then, young lad?" the Brig inquired.


	3. Revelations

"_A man must make his choice." - Elder of the Ood_

**The Ood Sphere, Horsehead Nebula, the Milky Way - YEAR 4238 AD**

"He is coming, he is coming, coming through the darkness and the fire, always present. The outcome of choice, a choice, a man must make his choice," spoke the Ood Elder.

"The Time Lord has come," said another Ood, turning towards the entrance of the enormous cavern, where Ood Sigma and the Doctor had just come through.

_So this must be the Ood council Sigma told me about_, the Doctor thought, looking at them and remembering what the Sigma had explained on the way down. The Ood were run now by a council; a council of natural un-lobotomized Ood, whose mental powers were the most strongly connected with the Ood Brain.

The Doctor observed them. Clad in brown monks robes, they were clearly natural Ood as they all still had their second brains, holding them in their hands. Other than that they were no different to any lobotomized Ood. That is apart from the Ood Elder, leader of the council and the one who was most connected most strongly with the Ood Mind.

He was larger than the rest, with the top of half of his 'first' brain rising out of his cranium. His robes were white, and he sat with his council in a circle; a fire was before him with a box of incense propped above, smoke arising out of it, giving off the smell of the fragrance.

"Sit with the Elder of the Ood and share the dreaming," Sigma instructed the Doctor.

The Doctor complied.

"So, right," he said as he sat down between two of the council members. "You must be the council. 'Ello!"

There was silence for a few seconds, and then…

"You will join!" the council commanded, speaking without need of translation sphere. "You will join! You will join! You will join! You will join!"

The Doctor did as they requested and joined hands with the two Ood sitting next to him, while the council kept on chanting.

"You will join! You will join! You will join!"

And then it hit him; a terrible image filling his mind. The image of a man he believed to be long dead.

**The Master.**

The last incarnation of the Master, his deadliest and oldest foe. He was chuckling, chuckling insanely as he often did in each and every body he had inhabited.

"HA! HA! HA! HA!"

The Doctor released his hands, trembling from the image which was now gone.

"Impossible!" he cried. "That man is dead!"

"Yet he comes to us every night in our dreams, Doctor," said the Ood Elder. "I believe every prescient being in the universe now dreams of him. Still, there is yet more; join us, Doctor."

The Doctor joined hands with the Ood again, as the Elder kept on speaking.

"Events are taking our shape, so many years ago, yet changing the now. We see a bloodline, a bloodline of such strength, yet a bloodline endangered. Endangered by the changing of time itself."

An image appeared. An image of a large country house, with a vast stretch of garden before it. Two tall men stood on the lawn, one young and one old. One who the Doctor recognised as one of his oldest and closest friends.

"The Brigadier? And who's that with him?" the Doctor questioned, observing the young man and eventually recognising the lines of resemblance. "Is that his grandson? My, my, not another Lethbridge-Stewart," the Doctor laughed.

"This is no time for jest, Doctor," said the Ood Elder sternly.

"Of course," replied the Doctor, the grin which had been on his face disappearing.

The image faded.

"We foresee something terrible occurring in time, Doctor. Events which involve you, the Master, the Brigadier, his grandson and eventually, every single universe which there is and ever will be."

"But the Master is dead!" the Doctor suddenly interrupted. "I saw him, I watched him die in my own arms. I burnt his body! The Master is dead!"

"Yet you did not see," the Elder replied.

Another image filled his mind. He saw himself walking away from the burning pyre, the Master's body being burnt to cinders. The image then changed, it was the pyre again but the fire was nearly burnt out. Then something fell from the pyre.

"What's that?" the Doctor questioned.

It was a ring. A green ring with Gallifreyan markings. The Master's ring.

Then a woman appeared. An old, white haired woman dressed in black. She approached the pyre, leaning down and picking up the ring. She held it as if it was something precious, looking upon its Gallifreyan markings.

It was then the Doctor realised what it was.

"A part of him survived," he said in horror. "I have to go!" he got up to leave, but the Ood by him dragged him down into the circle again, as the Ood Elder spoke once again.

"But something more is happening, Doctor. The Master is but a part of a great design. Something is happening, Doctor. Time is changing."

It was then the Elder's eyes turned red.

"A paradox is forming, a paradox which if sired will rewrite time."

"Rewrite time? What will be rewritten? What would its consequences be?"

"We cannot see the origin, but we know its consequences. The Fall! The fall of every universe! Every race, every living thing in existence, destroyed and then killed over and over again! Never ending! Never stopping! This is something far more than the mere destruction of reality! It is hell! And there is a race, Doctor. A race which will bring about this Armageddon!"

The Doctor gaped, as the Ood Elder finally cried three words which terrified the Doctor to his very core.

"THE DALEK RACE!"

And the cry of a robotic voice entered the Doctor's head. The voice of probably the worst creatures which had ever evolved.

"EXTERMINATE!"

And then silence.

And then the Doctor ran.

Ran as fast as he could back to the TARDIS.

_CHRIST! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! THIS ISN'T POSSIBLE! THEY'RE DEAD, THEY CAN'T COME BACK! THEIR FLEET WAS WIPED OUT! EVERY SHIP DESTROYED! EVEN DAVROS IS DEAD!_

Several minutes later he was back at the TARDIS, the Cloister Bell inside ringing as loud as possible. He clicked his fingers and the doors opened, running inside as fast as he could.

_The Ood Elder mentioned the Brigadier and his grandson were involved. I've got speak to Alistair! Find out his involvement in the paradox. Got to stop that thing from ever occurring! EVER!_ the Doctor thought.

He instantly began fiddling with the controls. Eventually he typed in the galactic co-ordinators, fired up the hellmic regulator and then released the handbrake, causing the TARDIS to materialise, on course for its next destination… Earth in the early 21st century.

But then, less than thirty seconds later, the TARDIS power went off. Its journey stopped. The lights went off leaving the console room in complete blackness.

_What on earth is going on?_

The emergency power came on, leaving the room in blinding redness. The Cloister Bell too had now stopped ringing.

_What on earth is going on?_

The TARDIS doors opened, which caused a white glow to replace the redness; a glow so bright the redness of the emergency power looked dull in comparison.

And then came a voice.

"Doctor!"

_It can't be_, the Doctor thought. _It's the-_

"Guardian?"

"Yes Doctor, it's me," came the answer. "And I must say that we are long overdue for a chat."

**Surrey, England, Earth, UK - WEDNESDAY APRIL 21****st****, 2010 AD**

"So what is it you want to talk about then, young lad?" the Brigadier inquired.

The young Captain paused for a moment, before saying, "Well-"

"Actually," his grandfather interrupted. "Let's have a sit down first shall we? Would be far more relaxing on my bench than standing here all day."

Gordon nodded, before taking a slow stroll to the garden bench with his grandfather.

"I had a call from your mother last week," said the Brig, as they walked.

"Really?"

"Told me about you breaking up with that Scottish girl. What was her name again? Annie was it?"

"Amelia," Gordon corrected.

"Ah yes, forgive me," the Brig apologised. "Anyway I'm terribly sorry about it, Gordon. Your mother said she was a lovely girl."

Gordon laughed.

"Mum's too kind," he said. "She was totally bonkers. Then again what's to expect from a jock girl living in an English village?"

"Excuse me, young lad," the Brigadier replied. "Show some respect. I'll have you know we are descended from the Stewart clan."

"Yes, I know," the Captain answered, as they reached the bench. An empty whiskey bottle and glass lay by it, along with a copy of the Times.

Both men sat down on the bench, as the Brigadier asked, "Anyway, perhaps you can tell me about what's bothering you now, Gordon?"

"Well, it's a long story, granddad. Started even before I was with UNIT," the Captain replied, pausing a moment before carrying on. "But it began nearly three years ago, just after the Battle of Canary Wharf."

"I see."

"Well," the Captain continued. "After Torchwood One's entire staff was pretty much wiped out, the Queen shut it down. But upon some pressure from UNIT, we managed to convince her to hand the Torchwood base in One Canada Square over to us."

The Brigadier nodded.

"Yes I know. Bambera told me," he answered.

"I'd imagined you would," the Captain replied. "But anyway, we wanted the base for one reason. The dimensional breach."

"But why? Hasn't it been closed for good?" asked the Brig, referring to the breach between this universe and the one of the Parallel Cybermen. The Cybermen who had used it in a attempt to invade and convert the entire planet into themselves, but whom fortunately, along with the army of Daleks present, had been sent into the Void by the Doctor. That, as the Brigadier had been led to believe, was the end of the dimensional breach. The two universes, as well as any other universe being sealed off for good.

"We believed it was, but there was still some strange things going on around it. It was still a radar black spot, and the scientists found all kinds of unusual stuff; dark matter for instance. So that gave them the idea. That idea that the breach was closed, but that it could be easily reopened again."

"What? Back to the universe the Cybermen came from?"

"Possibly. Or possibly to another one. So UNIT took control over Torchwood Tower, and had a small team of scientists and soldiers stationed there. Measuring the breach, in case it ever became active again."

"And let me guess," the Brigadier said. "It did?"

His grandson nodded.

"Good grief," the Brigadier responded in shock. "When did this happen?"

"A month ago. It started off as a mere electromagnetic disturbance. A few bursts of EMP causing pieces of machinery to break down. Then… well, that's when the gap opened and the voidal radiation irradiated everywhere in the base. Harmless, of course, but that's when we knew the breach had become active. So the Colonel decided to post even more scientists and soldiers at Torchwood Tower, including myself."

"So that's what you've been up to of late," the Brigadier replied, before thinking about something his daughter had said. "Your mother happened to mention you'd been posted on some classified assignment for the past month or so."

"Yeah, but as mum's a civilian I couldn't tell her the details, granddad," the Captain answered. "But anyway, Colonel Oduya posted me as head of the security detail. Well for the day shift anyway, Magambo's got it at night."

"You're lucky, Gordon. I bet Magambo wasn't too pleased."

"She wasn't," the Captain chuckled, before pausing for a moment. A very serious look appeared on his face, before saying, "The gap however is getting bigger. We're trying to stop it, but we're having no luck at all. I mean it's not as if were causing the bloody thing to get bigger like those idiots in Torchwood were."

"Good heavens."

"We tried contacting the Doctor of course, but your Space-Time Telegraph went kaput years ago. Then of course we tried, contacting Martha Jones. But she's gone freelance, and nobody seems to have a clue where she is."

"And if the Doctor can't be found-"

"Then the breach is only going to get bigger and bigger," the Captain replied. He then went pale, as he begun to sum up the courage to say his next words. Words which inspired terrible fear within him.

_Those dreams._

"But there's something else."

"Something else?" the Brigadier questioned. "What do you mean, something else?"

The Captain sighed.

_I've got to tell him._

"I-I I've been having… I've," he stuttered. "I've been having dreams."

Silence.

And then the Brigadier's face turned pale, like he had seen a ghost. His body began trembling, then shaking out of control.

"Granddad! Granddad what's wrong?"

No response.

_Christ!_ the Captain thought. _Is he having a fit?_

The Captain was about to get up and shout Doris for help, but then his grandfather finally spoke.

"Dreams? W-What d-drrreams?"

Gordon just gaped, astonished by the fear his grandfather was showing.

"Granddad, what on earth's wrong?" he finally said.

"What d-dreammm's?"

The Captain just kept on gaping, utterly shocked by what was happening. In all his life he had never seen has grandfather as frightened.

_Christ! What's wrong with him? Why's he so frightened!_

"Granddad, please. Just-"

"TELL ME!"

Gordon jumped, upon his grandfather's sudden roar. By the second he was becoming more shocked, and more afraid. Whatever was bothering his grandfather must have been something terrible, something of unbelievable terror.

_But what can it possibly be? Unless… no, it couldn't possibly be._

"I'm sorry, Gordon. I'm so sorry, Gordon," his grandfather then said, calming down from the rage he'd just shown. "But I-"

"You've been having them too. Haven't you? You-you you've been h-having the dreams."

The Brigadier didn't reply at first. He had calmed down from his fit of panic, but terror still gripped him. Because now he knew the truth…

_I'm not Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. I wasn't born in Mombassa. I'm not the son of Edward and Jane Lethbridge-Stewart. In fact, I'm not even from Earth. I'm something far more than anyone could have possibly imagined._

And then he heard it. Whispers. Whispers within his mind. Voices telling him who he really was, but not loud enough for him to hear.

_Who am I?_ he thought. _What the hell I am I?_

"All my life, Gordon," the Brigadier finally said. "All my life I've been having them. They began, they began when I was just a child. I had dreams of another world. A desert world, a world full of monsters and people, the likes of whom I had never seen. Desert people, people with blue within blue eyes."

He paused.

"And then, the dreams went," he said. "I thought they'd gone for good. Nothing more than a childhood delusion, a delusion telling me that my very identity was a charade. But they came back. Came back when I was in Suez. And this time I heard it. The sounds of a drumbeat, a rhythm of four. Boom, boom, boom, boom. A call to war. And then they left me again, but they've returned. I have them every night. Telling me that I've lived a lie; that I'm not who I think I am. That there never was a Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. And within the depths of my mind, there is something awakening. Something terrible, something I just can't put into words."

He stopped again, shedding a tear, which trickled down his cheek.

"I can't explain it, Gordon. I don't know what to think now. The rational side of my mind told me it was all a delusion, but if you've been having them…. well, my life, it was just a big lie."

And then there was silence. Not a word spoken between the both of them. A mixture of shock, fear and sadness permeated through the Captain. He was overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed by what his grandfather had just told him. Eventually, he then spoke.

"My dreams, granddad. They started happening two weeks ago; I think it must have been the breach which caused mine. But, I dreamt of that place too, that desert world. And those people. Then I heard those drums, signalling the coming of war; a war the likes of which we've never seen. And then there's that thing, granddad. That thing you described. The thing which is beginning to awaken. I can't explain it either, granddad. I don't feel like my identity is a lie, but… I do feel as if I'm something unnatural."

"Gordon, don't-"

"Granddad, who are we? What the fuck are we?"

"I don't know, Gordon. But you belong here, I can tell you that. This country, this planet is your home. I don't belong here, despite living my life convincing myself I do. I'm not from here."

"Granddad, what do you mean?" his grandson questioned. "What can you possibly mean?"

"I mean, Gordon, that there is nowhere on this planet which I now feel I can call home. Because I'm not from this planet. Hell, I don't think from this very period of time," the Brigadier answered, slowly facing the facts before him.

He was human undoubtedly. Someone would obviously have noticed if he wasn't after living on this planet for all these years. Nonetheless he felt he wasn't from Earth, and that his so called parents had lied to him. He'd loved them once, convinced himself even upon the return of his dreams once again that they still were his real parents.

But they'd lied to him. He wasn't their son.

_Who were they?_ the Brigadier thought. _Why did my so called parents lie to me? Not tell me who I was or where I came from. Deluded me into thinking I was from their loins. Liars! Yet… they loved me, and I loved them. I-I, oh god…_

And that was when the Brigadier, the toughened military man, began to sob.

He realised he still loved them. They were his real parents. They'd fed him, they 'd clothed him, they'd supported him, they'd loved him. He was not their biological son, but that did not matter. They were still his parents, his true parents.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, as he sobbed. His grandson took him in his arms, before starting to cry himself.

"I'm so sorry, granddad. I'm so sorry."

**The TARDIS, somewhere in Time and Space**

"Yes Doctor, its me," came the answer. "And I must say we are long overdue for a chat."

The next thing the Doctor knew, the White Guardian was walking out from the white glow of the void into the console room. He was in his usual appearance; a small, white haired and bearded old man, dressed in robes of purest white. A dead dove was perched on his head, its use clearly that of a hat.

It had been two centuries since the Doctor had last seen the Guardian, upon the Buccaneer, where his former companion, Turlough had rejected Enlightenment. The Guardian was the personification of good and order within the cosmos, in contrast to his counterpart, the Black Guardian who represented evil, chaos and entropy.

"Doctor," said the Guardian. "It's been a while hasn't it?"

"Two centuries," the Doctor answered. "For myself anyway."

"Well, for me it has be countless eons since we last met. Such is my nature."

"What do you want, Guardian?"

"I think you know why, Doctor."

The Doctor sighed, before answering with fear in his voice, "The paradox."

The Guardian nodded in response.

"Indeed. As the Ood and other such prescient beings have foreseen, a paradox is beginning to form within the space-time continuum. A paradox which threatens every living being within every universe."

"The Daleks," the Doctor replied, trembling.

"Yes, Doctor. The paradox will give the Dalek race its ultimate victory. A victory over everything."

"But why?" the Doctor demanded. "Why is the paradox forming?"

The Guardian paused for a moment before saying, "It concerns one of your oldest friends, Doctor. Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart."


	4. Further Revelations

"_Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic." - from the "Sayings of Muad'Dib", by Irulan Corrino-Atreides_

**The TARDIS, somewhere in Time and Space**

"It concerns of one your oldest friends," said the Guardian. "Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart."

"The Brigadier? Yes, the Elder told me he was involved. But what exactly has he got to do with it?" the Doctor questioned, deeply concerned about his old friend's connection with the terrible paradox.

The Guardian didn't reply at first, thinking about how best it would be to explain the situation to the Time Lord. A few moments later however, he asked the Doctor, "Do you recall the birth of the Dalek race on Skaro, Doctor?"

The Doctor shuddered at the thought, remembering his first encounter with Davros upon the hellworld of Skaro; where the genius scientist had not only betrayed the Thals, but also his own race, the Kaleds in order to bring about the creation of the Dalek race. All in the name of the greater good. But that wasn't the real reason Davros had brought those monsters into existence… it was only for his own lust for power.

And it was also on Skaro where the Doctor had the opportunity to prevent the Daleks from ever being created, but he had failed. He'd delayed them for a thousand years, but they still ultimately remained in existence. Growing over the countless millennia, until they became so powerful they unleashed another Time War, the final Time War upon the universe.

Countless billions dead, including the Time Lords, and it was all his fault.

_I failed. I failed them all._

"Unfortunately I do, Guardian," the Doctor replied after a while, with guilt permeating throughout him.

"I sense Doctor that you have much regret about what happened on Skaro. But I think you should realise the significance of what you did achieve there. You crucially delayed the Daleks by a thousand years."

"Yes, a thousand years!" the Doctor sneered abruptly. "A mere thousand years! Sweet Rassilon! I fucking failed, Guardian! Countless races exterminated! Countless more placed in time loops, being killed over and over again for eternity! The Time Lords, every single one of them, gone forever! I could have prevented those monstrosities from coming into existence! Could have prevented all that death, and all that suffering they ever caused! But did I? No, no I didn't. And now I've got to live with it for the rest of my thirteen lives."

The Guardian didn't respond immediately to the Doctor's sudden outburst, but he eventually began to shake his head.

"No, you did not fail, Doctor. Far from it. Your actions during their creation, crucially delayed them. If you hadn't well… the alternative timeline would have been unimaginably worse."

"And how it could be worse, Guardian?" the Doctor sneered again. "How?"

"The outcome of the paradox. It would have lead to the outcome of the paradox which is now forming within time."

The Doctor gaped in reply. His anger was now gone, instead being replaced by the horror of what he realised the White Guardian was implying. The Ood Elder's prophecy echoing within his mind.

"And it would have granted the Daleks control over all of reality," the Guardian continued. "If you had not delayed them, then their growth would have been hugely accelerated. They would have exterminated the Thal race almost instantly, before spreading terror across the universe. They would have won the war against the Movellans, there would be no defeats that would slow them. No force in the cosmos would be able to stop them, not even the Time Lords. And it is this timeline, Doctor which I fear will come into existence if the paradox is not prevented."

"Sweet Rassilon. You're surely not suggesting-"

"I afraid am, Doctor," the Guardian replied sadly. "If the paradox comes into existence, then your actions on Skaro would never have occurred. And the Daleks would go on to be masters of all time."

"But the Brigadier, Guardian? What is his involvement with the paradox?"

"His involvement is his very own existence."

"What? You're saying the Brigadier is the origin of the paradox?" the Doctor asked, astonished by the Guardian's answer.

"Yes. I am afraid I cannot see precisely the cause, but what I do know is this. If the paradox comes into effect, then the Brigadier will never have been born. You would not have met him during the invasion of the Great Intelligence, meaning UNIT would never have been formed. And without UNIT and the Brigadier, the Cybermen invasion of Earth in the human year of 1968 would have succeeded. And you Doctor, would have perished."

And not for the first time today, the Doctor felt himself to be both shocked and horrified by the Guardian's revelation. If the paradox was allowed to come into existence, then it would not only mean the end of the Brigadier's life, but he and trillions upon trillions of living beings would also perish. There would no longer be order in the cosmos, but instead there would be chaos. Chaos reigning for all eternity, brought into being by a race who possessed nothing but terrible hatred for any other form of life.

And now it became obvious what the Guardian wanted the Doctor to do.

"So you see, Doctor," the Guardian said after about a minute to the Time Lord, who was still tremendously shocked about what he had learned. "What must be done is clear. At all costs, the life of the Brigadier must be secured."

"And you want me to make sure Alistair is born?"

"Yes, Doctor. It is only you I can trust enough to complete this task."

"But how?" the Doctor questioned, still confused about the paradox. "What change in the timeline has caused the Brigadier to never have been born?"

"As I have said, I am afraid that I cannot accurately see the cause. Usually my vision of time is far broader, but certain aspects of it are currently clouded to me. I can see the cause of the paradox, but I cannot see the cause of the cause. It is like being a man at the bottom of a valley; he can see everything within the valley, but nothing beyond it. And in the same way, the cause which will lead to Brigadier's non-existence is beyond my vision. The entire Lethbridge-Stewart line is hidden to me. I can see nothing of it until the Brigadier met you in the underground, Doctor."

"So that's it then," recognised the Doctor. "I'm going to have find out myself."

"I fear that time may prevent you," the Guardian replied.

"What do you mean, time may be prevent me?"

"Once again, Doctor I am unable to see enough to be certain. But know this. Matters are more complex than simply travelling back and playing matchmaker for his parents. Time itself may prevent you from doing this. But this is not all. I do not know why, but the walls sealing of this universe are collapsing again."

"What? Why?" the Doctor asked, alarmed by yet another revelation. "Surely after-"

"And yet again, I am afraid I cannot answer you," the Guardian answered solemnly, himself puzzled. "Though it is almost certain that this and the impending paradox are no coincidence. And I would advise that you to be aware of this upon this grave task."

"Then I've got to go," the Doctor replied, as if in a rush to get on his way. "I've got to speak to the Brigadier and find out anything he could possibly know."

"I agree, Doctor," said the Guardian in reply. "You should take this action before investigating the Brigadier's timeline, if it is possible. Though first, I would recommend you go to Cantolis."

"Cantolis?" the Doctor asked, confused by the Guardian's suggestion. "The jungle planet in the Starspen Galaxy? But what's that go to do with anything?"

"Given the circumstances, I have decided that you could require some help. On Cantolis, you will find your two companions."

"Companions?" the Time Lord cried in protest. "Guardian, are you really sure this is necessary? It would be easier if-"

"Believe me, Doctor it would not," the Guardian replied dismissing the Time Lord's objection. "The two companions, I think you will find, will be of great assistance. Indeed you both know them very well, one in fact you know, let's say, 'extremely intimately'."

_I know them extremely well?_ the Doctor questioned himself mentally. _And I know one of them 'extremely intimately'? What on earth does he mean by that? And surely by intimately he doesn't' mean-_

"You will find them in the Temple of Psyche," the Guardian continued, answering a question before the Doctor he could even ask it. "Within the inner sanctum, in the same time period as the Brigadier's. And one final thing, Doctor. I warned you last time, that my counterpart would be waiting for a third encounter with yourself. That time is now. The paradox would fulfil his desire for releasing everlasting chaos upon reality. And he will do all within his power to make sure it comes into being. He will have his own agents at his disposal, who will stop at nothing to make sure you do not succeed. So beware, Doctor. Beware, the Black Guardian," And with that the Guardian began to fade out of sight, as the TARDIS power came back on; the craft's doors sealing up, blocking view of the white nothingness outside.

"Wait!" shouted the Doctor, trying to prevent the Guardian from leaving, as he still had about a million questions he needed to ask him. "What about-"

"I am sorry, Doctor," the Guardian replied with a smile. "But I must now be going. We will see each other again soon, when the time is right. Hopefully when I have discerned more about the coming paradox. But for now, Doctor, goodbye."

The Guardian then faded completely; disappearing from the control room, leaving the Doctor alone and utterly confused. The White Guardian's visit had ended up giving him more questions than answers. For one, the Guardian had not explained the role of the Master, a role which the Ood Elder had emphasised would be of importance. Nor had he any idea what caused the Brigadier to never have been born. Nonetheless, the Doctor at least had an idea of what he must do. To make sure that his old friend, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart was not erased from the timeline.

_Well, first thing's first_, the Doctor thought. _I've got to go to Cantolis, and pick up these companions the Guardian's shoved on me. Just like he did with Romana. God knows who they are though._

A second later, the Time Lord was back at the console. Resetting the coordinates for his new destination.

Cantolis.


	5. The Temple on Cantolis Part 1

"_Myth often possesses a segment of truth."_

_-"Ascendancy" by RSM John Benton_

**The Temple of Psyche, Cantolis, Starspen Galaxy - YEAR 2010 AD**

The Doctor knew something was terribly wrong the minute the TARDIS arrived on Cantolis. The vessel had materialised in an immense corridor in the temple, only for the Doctor to find it covered in darkness, not a soul within sight.

"Hello!" he shouted, after exiting the TARDIS. "Is there anybody there?"

There was no answer.

_Something's not right_, the Doctor thought.

The Temple of Psyche was an enormous structure, built within Mount Tharsis, one of the tallest the mountains on Cantolis. The temple itself was many times the size of St Peter's Basilica on Earth, and had five entrances littered on the mountainside. Such was its size, that it boasted a contingent of ten thousand monks and attracted around sixty thousand pilgrims daily.

Therefore it was awfully unnerving to find not a single person about. The Doctor had timed the TARDIS to materialise at midday, but even if he had landed during the early hours of the morning he would still expect there to be few monks and pilgrims around.

Instead there was nobody about, with the entire corridor encased in blackness.

_What's happened? Where can everybody be?_

He began rummaging in his pockets, eventually coming across a torch and an old map of the temple; the latter of which had come into his possession in his third incarnation. He switched on the torch, before beginning his trek into the darkness.

_Have they all been evacuated? That's surely the only logical answer? But why?_

He carried on walking down the corridor, as he shone his torch across the walls of the corridor. Finely crafted mosaics lay across the walls, depicting events significant in the Cantolian religion. In one, the Doctor saw the descent of Velos, God of War, from the heavens. There were hieroglyphs on the walls too, and every so often he passed marble pillars on either side, which were also covered in sacred lettering.

_A terrorist threat perhaps?_ thought the Doctor, still worrying about why the temple was seemingly deserted. _No, terrorism is practically non-existent of Cantolis. Some kind of natural disaster? No, Cantolians have weather control, there's no volcano for a thousand miles, and the readings in the TARDIS showed no sign of any seismic activity. Not to mention there's no sign of damage to the temple. So what can it be? Unless of course they haven't been evacuated…_

And that was when the White Guardian's warning occurred to him.

"_So beware, Doctor. Beware, the Black Guardian."_

The Doctor shuddered.

_Yes, this reeks of the involvement of the Black Guardian. There's no chance the White Guardian would send me here if he knew something bad was going to happen. The Black Guardian must have foreseen I'd come here, and he's obviously responsible for what's happened._

It was at that moment the Doctor considered leaving as soon as he could. But he couldn't.

_The two companions. I've got to find out if they're still alive, and if so, get them out of here. I have a bad feeling whatever the Guardian used to cause this is still here._

He quickened the pace, trying to get to end of the corridor as fast as he could walk. A second later however the lights came on.

_Someone's turned the power on. Could it be them?_

With the lights now on, the Doctor could now see the end of the corridor. Around fifty feet away was an elevator. A sign was above it, written in Basic Cantolian, which translated as…

**ELEVATOR 4B**

The Doctor stopped and put away his torch, before opening up the map he'd held in his right hand.

Elevator 4B was obviously on the fourth level. Checking the map, the Doctor soon found out that the Inner Sanctum was in the bottom level, which lay deep underneath the mountain.

_Let's just hope they're there._

A few moments later he was at the elevator. He walked through the open doors, only to find that the controls were jammed. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and turned it on, solving the problem in less than a second. The doors shut and the elevator began its descent down to the bottom level.

_Please be there._

Eventually after a while, the elevator came to a stop at the bottom level with a thud. The doors opened, revealing another immensely large corridor. On either side of the corridor there were several open doorways; doorways to various passages and other rooms within the bottom level.

At the other end of the corridor however, there was a fifty foot high double-door. It was constructed out of basalt rock and was littered with gigantic precious gemstones. Even without looking at the map, one could tell that the double-door was the entrance to the Inner Sanctum, the most sacred part of the entire temple and the place were the Time Lord hoped he would find his two companions.

_And then we can get out of here._

The Doctor hurriedly began to walk down the corridor, taking no notice of the mosaics and hieroglyphs scrawled on the walls. He briefly took a glance at the one of the doorways he passed, noticing it opened up to a room in which there were silver balls floating around in an anti-gravity field. He would have considered taking a look, but given the circumstances he needed to be in the sanctum as soon as possible.

It was then that the lights briefly flickered out. Without a thought for this, the Doctor kept on walking, assuming it to be nothing. But when the lights flickered out another three times, it finally got his attention.

_Odd_, he thought. _Is the power going out? Nah- it's probably nothing._

He carried on walking until he finally came to the basalt double-door, noticing a keypad lock upon the left door. Once again he pulled out his screwdriver and began hacking into the electronic lock. A short while later there was a click, before the gigantic doors slowly swung outwards revealing the Inner Sanctum, which was shrouded in darkness.

"Hello!" the Doctor shouted, in an attempt to find out whether the two companions were there. "Anybody here?"

There was no reply but his own echo across the vast chamber.

_No answer. This is not good._

The Doctor thought for a short while, considering his options. The fact that nobody seemed to be within the sanctum was worrying, and the idea of leaving at that very moment once again entered the Time Lord's head. But further thought convinced him otherwise.

_The power, someone turned on the power. And since it was off beforehand, it can't have been any agent of the Black Guardian. They'd have left it on. No it was either __**them**__ or some survivor. They could still be alive._

He brought out and turned his torch on, bringing a red tiled pathway in front of him into attention. He then walked through the now open doorway, following the pathway deep into the sanctum.

However a little while later, the Time Lord was caught in surprise when two silver bowls burst into flame on both sides of the path, lighting up the area around him. He paused, soon noticing he had passed a heat sensor to his left, which had obviously turned the two bowls on. Recognising that there must have been more bowls up ahead, the Doctor put away his torch and continued to follow the path.

More bowls ignited as he travelled deeper into the sanctum. Then, after what seemed like hours, he finally reached the other end of the Inner Sanctum.

A long line of bowls turned on in front of him (to the right and the left), revealing in their light the entirety of the back of the sanctum. Another two basalt double-doors were on his left and right, also fifty foot high and decorated in extremely large gems. However in between them was a massive stone hand upon the wall, with its palm facing towards him. A beautifully shaped feminine hand, with a symbol marked upon it.

_The Hand of Psyche_, the Doctor thought, recalling the stories about the mythical figure. In Greek and Roman myth Psyche was an extremely beautiful mortal girl who became the consort of Eros, and was made into a Goddess by Zeus. However myths had arisen about her throughout millions of humanoid civilisations. The stories about her varied; some considered her a Goddess, some an extremely malevolent succubus, some just a mortal. But all of them shared one common feature…

Her beauty was unmatched by any other being.

Though quite naturally, conceptions of what this beauty was differed from civilisation to civilisation. Some believed her beauty could not be described based on current revelation, and instead used a symbol to represent her. On Cantolis, where she was Goddess of Love and Prosperity, this was in the form of a hand… the Hand of Psyche.

_Still, she's in fact nothing more than an innate meme_, the Time Lord thought, dismissing the stories as nothing but superstitious nonsense. _Forming during the beginning of each civilisation, replicating itself from person to person. A virus of the mind, as dear old Richard Dawkins would say._

Then before he knew it, the Doctor heard a clicking a sound, which was followed immediately by the doors to his left beginning to open. The Doctor gasped, before running to the double-door.

_Can it be them?_

The doors opened, light flooding into the chamber, temporarily blinding the Doctor. A few moments later he recovered, seeing two figures stood a few feet in front of him. One a young, dark haired man who wore a kilt; the other, a short, clownish looking man, with a mop of a black hair and who looked to be middle-aged.

And then the Doctor realised who they were.

"No, no," the Doctor gasped, staring at the shorter man in awe. "It can't be. Its **YOU**!"

"Oh dear, Jamie," said the short, clownish looking man to his companion. "It seems we've stumbled upon myself yet again."

"What?" Jamie questioned. "What d' you mean, Doctor? Yah surely not saying-"

"That the man standing opposite us is actually a future version of myself?" the second incarnation of the Doctor replied. "Well yes, Jamie. In an actual fact, I am."

"Oh, aye. And we've only just seen that **other you** as well," Jamie remarked. "Well, what's he doing here? I thought yah said the Time Lords were sending that agent here."

"Well, then that can only mean two things Jamie," the Second Doctor answered, as his other incarnation remained rooted to spot, staring at him. "The High Council have grown a sense of humour, and sent him here as some kind of joke. Or something has drastically gone wrong," he then turned to his future self, before asking in a raised voice, "So perhaps you could tell us what on earth we are all doing here?"

There was silence at first, with the Doctor's tenth self still in shock from learning the identity of the two companions - though his past incarnation would certainly object to being called such a term - the Guardian had sent him.

_So that's what the Guardian meant_, the Doctor thought in realisation. _The companion I know extremely intimately is myself. And there was me thinking- Well, never mind._

And then slowly, a smile began to form upon the Tenth Doctor's lips.

"And that's why you're my favourite," he said, grinning at his second self. "You really are brilliant, you know that?"

"A fan it seems," the Second Doctor sighed. "Still, I suppose you've got more manners than Scarecrow. Nonetheless, you still haven't explained why we are here.

The Tenth Doctor paused briefly, before saying, "Well, considering the circumstances, I think it would be best for you to explain why you're here."

In response the Second Doctor shot him a look in disgust, to which the Tenth said in reply, "Trust me. You need to tell me first."

"Oh, very well," the Second Doctor said in great annoyance, before saying, "I assumed you knew why."

"I might be able to explain. But only if you can tell me what you know."

"Aye, we've only just finished that business with Dastari and those terrible Androgums," Jamie said, joining the conversation. "Y' know, when that other you tricked that Chessene to-" he stopped, before turning to the Doctor's second incarnation and asking, "What was it again, Doctor?"

"Molecular disintegration, deteriorating her to the normal Androgum form. Horrible death," the Second Doctor answered for him, with a shudder at the last comment.

"Yes, I remember," the Tenth Doctor replied. "But then what?"

"Well we got a transmission from the Celestial Intervention Agency, which told us to come here," the Second Doctor answered. "Said we were to meet one of their agents; an agent who had a mission of utmost importance."

"Aaaah, now that explains everything," said the Tenth Doctor with a grin. "That transmission wasn't from the CIA."

"What?" cried the Second Doctor. "What do you mean that transmission wasn't from the CIA?"

"Well, how do I put this. Yes, you were hoodwinked."

"And hoodwinked by who exactly?" the Second Doctor questioned.

"The White Guardian."

"Bah! Preposterous!" the Second Doctor cried again. "Everyone knows that-"

"Guardians do not interfere with temporal affairs," the Tenth Doctor finished for him. "Well you're wrong, they do. Thing is their powers are constricted in order to maintain the balance between themselves, so they can only interfere in certain ways and at certain times."

"The other Doctor, seems to be more in the know than you are, Doctor," Jamie said to the Second Doctor, who ignored the comment and asked his future incarnation, "And I take it then, that now is such a time?"

"Yep, though I think I should explain why later," the Tenth Doctor replied, starting to get worried. "There's something very wrong about the temple."

"Aye, too right it is," Jamie agreed. "This place has about as much joy as a funeral."

"Yes, your right, Jamie," the Second Doctor replied, sensing an evil presence in the air. "This temple should be packed full of pilgrims; not to mention the fact we found the power control room vandalised."

"Vandalised?" questioned the Tenth Doctor in alarm, as the light in the sanctum flickered out for a second. "Well that settles it then. This entire temple stinks of the Black Guardian's interference. He's sent something here, something which I think has murdered every living thing in the temple. Where's your TARDIS?" he asked directly to his younger self.

"On the second level."

"I see. So here's the plan-"

But before he could finish, the Tenth Doctor was interrupted by the sight of the bowls at the end of the sanctum beginning to turn off. The double-door at the far end - now no longer visible due to the darkness - shut in a huge thump, as more bowls turned off, the darkness creeping further towards the three men.

_Its here_, the Tenth Doctor thought.

"Actually here's the plan," he said, his voice indicating his utter terror. "RRRUUUUNNNN!"

The three ran as fast as they could, out of the sanctum and turning right down a corridor, the Second Doctor leading the way.

"This way!" he shouted. "I'll get us back to the elevator!"

"What on earth is that thing?" Jamie questioned, terrified by whatever was stalking them.

"I don't know, Jamie," the Tenth Doctor answered, as they all kept on running. "And I certainly don't want to find out."

They eventually came to the end of the corridor, before turning left up a flight of steps, coming to another corridor at the top. A while later, they turned left through a doorway into a chamber, then once reaching its centre, they ran right through another doorway and then onto another corridor.

"This way! The elevator's over there!" the Second Doctor shouted, as they turned left and sprinted down to the elevator.

"Damn it! Its jammed!" he shouted again as they arrived, noticing the elevator's outer door controls were stuck.

"Screwdriver," said the Tenth Doctor, pulling out the device. He turned it on, but stopped when he saw the look his younger incarnation was giving him. "Updated version. A lot better than the antique you use," he told him grinning.

"Antique!" the Second Doctor cried in protest. "I'll have you know-"

However before he could his sentence, he was cut off by Jamie.

"That thing, its here."

And then they revealed themselves.

The lights flashed off a for a brief moment, before coming back on and illuminating the stalking terror. The two Doctors and Jamie gaped, scared senseless by the evil which had seemingly appeared out of thin air.

_Sweet Rassilon_, the Tenth Doctor thought. _Its them._

"What? What are they?" Jamie questioned in both confusion and fear.

They were stone angels, dozens of them. Stone angels who stood motionless, as one would expect any statue would. But they clearly weren't statues, they were something else; something terrible, something which evolution should never have spawned.

The Weeping Angels.

"Jamie," said the Tenth Doctor, terrified by the sight of the accursed angels. "Whatever you do, don't blink."

"What, what do you-"

"Don't blink! Blink and your dead!"


	6. A Masterful Return

"_**There is a temptation to feel pity for the Master. But after what he did to my father, I cannot see myself ever being able to forgive him."**_

_**-The Doctor: A biography, by Irulan Corrino-Atreides**_

**10 Downing Street, Whitehall, London - WEDNESDAY 21st**** April 2010 AD**

Lieutenant-Colonel John Smithees, of the United Nations Intelligence Task Force, was having a bad day.

In fact it was more like a bad week. Actually, a very bad month.

The cause? A hole in the fabric of the space-time continuum, located in the top floor of Torchwood Tower, or as civilians knew it, One Canada Square, Canary Wharf.

The hole was damaging the fabric of reality, which according to the boffins would at a minimum lead to the polar ice caps melting if it wasn't closed soon.

Naturally, this was a prospect that no one found particularly desirable. So UNIT had tried contacting their legendary former scientific advisor, the Doctor, but this had been to no avail. The Space-Time Telegraph was broke, and as Martha Jones could not be found (who's mobile phone was able to contact the alien's TARDIS), they had no means in which to get in touch with him.

They were getting desperate, and Smithees was increasingly getting less and less night's sleep from the stress being exerted on him. Not just from the worry he'd have to move house again, because the entire city would soon be underwater, but also from the sheer amount of work Oduya was making him do upon the crisis.

"Any progress?" Smithees had asked Captain Lethbridge-Stewart a few hours earlier on the phone.

"Afraid not, Sir," had come the reply. "Fitzgerald had this idea about altering the flow of the artron particles, but it came to nothing."

"I see," the UNIT Colonel had sighed. "Well let me know if something does happen, Captain."

"Will do, Sir."

The line went dead.

And then when Smithees thought his life couldn't get anymore turbulent… it did.

"I've just had a call from the Cabinet Secretary, Smithees," Colonel Augustus Oduya, had explained in his office. "It seems the PM wants to have a word with us."

"With us?" he'd asked puzzled. "Why would that be, Sir?"

Oduya gave him a funny look, indicating he believed the man before him was an incompetent buffoon.

"Remind me again, Lieutenant-Colonel? Did you really go to Cambridge? Isn't it clearly obvious what the PM wants to speak to us about?"

"Oh," he'd replied in realisation. "Sorry, Sir. Must be the lack of sleep."

Oduya just rolled his eyes, before saying, "Anyway, it seems he got wind of the report I issued to Geneva about the breach. And as you can expect, he's absolutely livid."

"Well that's certainly not a surprise, Sir. He's a complete arse-" he stopped himself, conscious that swearing before a superior officer was not a good idea.

"-hole?" Oduya finished for the Lieutenant-Colonel, before saying. "Well, yes indeed he is, Smithees. Though unlike his predecessor, Collins is at least an arsehole with principles."

John Smithees nodded, remembering what he'd heard during the whole 456 incident. It wasn't the willingness of the former PM, Brian Green, to do business with the 456 which disturbed him (after all they had little choice but to comply). But rather the fact the children which would been sacrificed, would have been chosen merely on the basis they attended struggling schools; and also because once the incident was resolved, Green's first thought was to save his own skin. Unfortunately for him however, it was this thought which had led ironically to his downfall.

_The Colonel's right. Adam Collins at least has a moral compass_, the UNIT Colonel noted mentally to himself.

Nevertheless as Smithees recognised, he was still in for a bollocking.

But at the last moment, before the two UNIT officers were due at Downing Street at Six in the evening, they had had a telephone call.

Salvation had arrived in the last moment.

And less than a hour later, both men found themselves sitting outside the PM's office, waiting to be let in. With the thought in their minds, that at least they now had some protection against the politicians wrath.

_Perhaps I won't be getting a bollocking after all_, the Lieutenant-Colonel thought to himself.

The intercom then suddenly flared up at the pretty secretary's desk, on the other side of the outer office. Smithees heard the voice of Adam Collins, but it wasn't loud enough to make out what he was saying. Nevertheless it was obvious what he was speaking about…

"The Prime Minister is ready for you now," said the secretary, before briefly touching her tied back hair.

Smithees nodded in response, before getting up and slightly tipping his officers cap to her. He then followed Oduya from their seats to the ornate door, which he opened, the two men entering the PM's office.

They found the Prime Minister standing on his expensive rug, looking at himself in the mirror on the room's left wall. Smithees had never seen the politician before in the flesh, but he appeared no different as he did in the newspapers and the television. An attractive, youngish looking man in his early 40's, with dark unruly hair. He stood there in an Italian suit, though his jacket as Smithees noted was tucked on the chair behind his desk.

"Prime Minister," Colonel Oduya said, in such a way that it was clear he was trying to get the politician's attention.

The PM turned to face the two men, Lieutenant-Colonel Smithees giving him a brief salute, while Oduya did nothing.

"Colonel Augustus Oduya," the Prime Minister said acknowledging the presence of UNIT commander. His attention then came to the Lieutenant-Colonel, "And Lieutenant-Colonel John Smithees, I presume?"

"That would be me, Sir," Smithees replied.

The PM smirked, before his attention once again came to Colonel Oduya. The UNIT Colonel began to speak, "Prime Minister-" but he was cut off almost instantly by the politician.

"Tell me Colonel, does your organisation enjoy keeping secrets from the Prime Minister of this country?" he questioned in an almost insulting manner. "Secrets which I may add, involve the jeopardy of national security."

"I apologise, Sir for any offence UNIT may have caused you in concealing the recent events at Torchwood Tower," said Colonel Oduya. "However it is the responsibility of UNIT to make sure such confidential information is released in an appropriate manner, and at the appropriate time."

Prime Minister Collins responded by glaring at Oduya, before saying, "Well, _Colonel_. I'll tell you what would have been an appropriate time. You should have informed me the minute it became evident that breach was a threat. You may think yourself an international organisation, under the directive of the United Nations, but you personally belong to the British contingent. And as British, your allegiance is to me and to my government."

_Damn the man!_ Oduya thought angrily to himself. Not wishing to get himself dragged into a pointless argument, he skirted the issue and asked, "Well, is there any certain issue regarding the breach you would like to discuss, Prime Minister?"

"Isn't it obvious, Colonel? It is the threat that thing causes by its very existence. A severe case of climate change at best, if it continues growing eh, Colonel? Not only are countless lives in stake, but like my predecessors, my tenure in office looks set to be ended prematurely by an alien threat."

_And this is where the recent information comes in_, Smithees thought in response, knowing now was the time to reveal the contents of Magambo's phone call.

"Um, Sir."

The Prime Minister looked at him, then saying, "Excuse me?"

"The situation has changed since Colonel Oduya's report."

"And in what way has it changed, Lieutenant-Colonel?"

"Before departing HQ, we received a telephone call from Captain Erisa Magambo, at Torchwood Tower," Oduya replied instead of Smithees. "And I was informed by her that the growth of the dimensional breach is starting to slow down."

"Starting to slow down?" the PM questioned.

"We don't know why, Sir," Colonel Smithees answered. "But estimates from our scientists at Torchwood Tower, is that by tomorrow evening the growth of the breach will stop."

The PM did not respond immediately, instead thinking to himself for a moment. Finally, he asked, "How does this effect the potential consequences of the breach remaining open?"

"I am afraid we do not know yet, Prime Minister," Smithees replied. "But even if the breach continues to do damage to the Space-Time Continuum, the rate of such damage will have been slowed considerably. It would buy us time."

"Time?"

"Time enough to gather further knowledge on the breach," Oduya replied. "Knowledge which will give us the means to seal it."

"Or it is possible we may have traced Martha Jones by then, Sir," Smithees added. "In which case, we'll be able to contact the Doctor."

There was silence for a time, as the PM began to pace about on the rug. His anger clearly stilled by the latest revelation brought to him; instead curiosity had replaced it in his mind.

"So you are confident you can take care of the situation, Colonel?" he eventually asked Augustus Oduya.

Oduya briefly looked at Smithees, before answering the Prime Minister, "Fully confident, Sir."

"Very well, then," Prime Minister Collins replied. "I'll let UNIT get on with the situation. I expect though, that you inform of any developments regarding the breach. Is that understood, Colonel?"

"Clearly, Prime Minister."

"Fair enough. Your dismissed, Colonel."

Both UNIT officers gave the Prime Minister a salute, as Colonel Oduya said, "Sir." They then both left the room, the door shutting behind them.

The PM sighed the minute they left. Hopeful that no more paranormal nonsense would ever effect his term in office. A courtesy which hadn't been enjoyed by any Prime Minister since the last Tory government.

Nevertheless he was curious; what was causing that breach at Torchwood Tower to open again?

_Last time it was those tin men, but what about this time? Is it just spontaneous? Or is it a malevolent force? Still…if Colonel Blimp can succeed in closing it, I won't have to worry about it. I can focus on actual policy again…_

Unfortunately for Prime Minister Adam Collins, this would not be the last time his tenure in office would be disturbed by the paranormal. Events were taking shape. Events which would effect every being in existence.

Events which, unknowing to Adam Collins at the present time, would lead him to be the last Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

**Surrey, England - WEDNESDAY APRIL 21st, 2010 AD**

"What are we going to do, granddad?"

The Brigadier turned to look at his grandson. They'd been sitting in silence for several minutes now, still both in shock from what they had learned.

_Who am I? Where do I come from?_ An endless amount of questions were now pouring through his mind.

_Who am I?_

"I… I don't know, Gordon," he replied sadly. "Truth be told, I think there's only one man in the universe who can help me now."

"The Doctor," Captain Lethbridge-Stewart acknowledged.

"Wonderful chap. All of them."

"But who unfortunately for us, isn't here," said Gordon gravely.

"He'll turn up eventually. That man has a habit of appearing at the right time."

"And what about this time?"

The Brigadier paused.

"He'll show up," he said. "But until then, I think we've got to our best to find out the truth. I believe some of my father's journals are still in the attic; there's a chance I could find some clues within them."

"I'll help, granddad," the Captain replied. "But there's another problem too. The breach."

The Brigadier paused again. An almost instinctual like thought had suddenly appeared within his mind, which indicated a truth about that hole in reality. He didn't know why, but he felt the breach wasn't a threat. Instead its purpose was to help mankind.

"The breach is not a problem."

"It isn't?" the Captain asked, puzzled by his grandfather's reply.

"No," the Brig replied. "The breach poses no threat. Its here to help us, not to harm us."

"And you know this? How?"

"I'm not sure. Its a feeling, an instinct of some kind. The same kind of instinct I have about my identity, the drums, the hand, everything which now haunts me."

"Hand?" the Captain questioned, distracted by the detail. "What hand?"

The Brigadier looked at him curiously, before asking, "You mean, you haven't dreamt of it?"

Gordon shook his head.

"Well, it's a hand. A beautiful, feminine hand," said the Brigadier. "And on the hand's palm is some kind of symbol. An upside down semi-circle, with two lines beneath it. There are two dots, on either side the lines. And then under the lines is a crescent moon, which faces to the right. But the hand scares me, Gordon. Both the symbol and hand together possess a meaning, and I'm terrified of what that meaning is."

Sensing his grandfather's fear of the hand, the Captain thought it was best he changed the subject. "So?" he asked. "How can I help, granddad?"

"I'd like you to stay with me and Doris tonight, Gordon," the Brig replied. "I'll get Doris to make you some food-"

"No, granddad. That really isn't necessary."

"Rubbish Gordon," said the Brigadier, dismissing the suggestion. "You can't go without eating. She won't mind at all with cooking you something. Anyway, after dinner we can take a look at the journals. My father must have left a clue of some kind."

Gordon nodded.

"Another thing," the Brigadier added. "I'd prefer it if you didn't mention any of our conversation to Doris."

"Doesn't she have a right to know?"

"She does, but… it would be better it if I talked to her, Gordon. It needs to be me who tells her."

"Yes, your right, granddad," the Captain replied. "But when?"

"Tomorrow. Yes, I think that would be best."

He then got up from the bench, then picking up his newspaper, glass and the empty bottle of whiskey. He looked back at his grandson, asking, "You coming, Gordon?"

A smile formed on the Captain's lips.

"Of course, _Sir_."

And with that, he got off the bench and followed the Brigadier back to the house.

**Broadfell Prison, South London - WEDNESDAY 21****st**** April 2010**

As he regained consciousness, a thought entered the within the depths of the Master's crazed mind.

_Doctor, you fool._

Did that simpleton really believe he would have let himself die? The Master; the renegade Time Lord, who gave birth to chaos and destruction across all of the universe. The man, who was once willing to sacrifice his own race so he could continue to live.

_You are a fool, Doctor. And you will pay for your foolishness._

He hovered above the chamber, as his slaves willing gave their life force to him. The resurrection however was not yet complete; none of his body below his waist had yet formed from the swirling hurricane of artron energy, which filled the room full of blue light.

His contingency plan had clearly worked. He knew that even after his seeming victory over the Doctor (which had led to the alternative timeline), there was a chance that his enemy could still succeed. And after that wretched fool had foiled him once again, the Master knew he had no choice but to give off the illusion he was dead. He would never allow himself to become a prisoner of the Doctor, but equally he could not face the annihilation of his own consciousness.

_There is nothing worse than death._

So he'd made plans. He'd enslaved several weak minded fools to his will, and instructed them to prepare for his resurrection in the event he unfortunately perished. And thanks to his darling human wife, Lucy (oh, how driving her insane was such a wonderful idea), who through revenge had shot him, he had been able to trick the Doctor into believing he was dead.

And now his plans had come into fruition. He had returned.

"Never. Never. Never dying!" he cried. "Never Dying! NEVER DYING! HA! HA! HA! HA!"

And then he noticed her. The one who his slaves had needed, as she bore his biometrical signature.

Lucy Saxon, his widow and murderer.

"Oh Lucy," he said to her seductively. "Sweet Lucy. My ever faithful, Lucy Saxon. Did the widow's kiss bring me back to life?"

"You're insane Harry!" she shouted, before turning to the prison guards who were sacrificing their life force. "You're killing them!"

"Oh, let them die. They're just the first. The whole stupid, stinking human disgrace can fall into the pit!"

_Or perhaps not_, he thought. _Maybe I could keep this backward race alive as my pets._

His attention however then fell to the drumbeat, the never-ending drumbeat, which was within his head. The drums which he had heard of all life. And they were now beating loud than ever before.

_BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!_

_BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!_

_BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!_

_BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!_

_What are they?_ he thought. _What do they mean?_

"Oh… Lucy. Can't you hear them?" he asked her, as more energy more poured into him from his servants. "The drums. The never-ending drums. Oh, how I have missed them."

"_The Perceiver."_

"What? Who said that?" the Master cried, the whisper from nowhere shocking him. "I'll say it again, who said that?"

"_Time Personified."_

"Who are you? ANSWER ME!"

"There's nobody talking, Harry," said Lucy, shocked by the insanity of her former husband.

"Oh, do not lie, woman!" the Master spat. "There is somebody else here! Now whoever you are, ANSWER ME! I AM THE MASTER, A BEING BEYOND YOUR CRUDE IMAGINATION! YOU WILL ANSWER ME, NOW!"

As the Time Lord continued to shout at the non-existent person, Lucy approached the only prison guard who had not sacrificed herself to the Master; for unknowingly to him, she was her ally. And from her, Lucy took a bottle. The antidote to this mess.

"_The Krakal. The Timeless One. The Ascender. The One Who Sees All," _the voice continued; the voice which only the Master could hear.

_Only I can hear it_, the Master at last realised. _Its inside my head… like the drums. Its telling me something._

"Thing is Harry, I knew you would return! So I made my own plans!" Lucy cried, the bottle in her hands. "The Secret Books of Saxon spoke of the potions of life. I was never that bright, but my family had contacts. People who were clever enough to calculate the opposite," she said, as she lifted the top of the bottle.

Realising what the bottle contained, fear shot through the Master. If Lucy released the potion now, his resurrection would come to an untimely end.

"Don't you dare! I'm ordering you, Lucy! YOU WILL OBEY ME!"

"_To the Eternals, he is known as Oedipus."_

"**OBEY ME!**"

"TILL DEATH DO US PART, HARRY!" Lucy Saxon shouted, as she threw the bottle at him.

"_But to the Time Lords, and those of the other universe…"_

"**NNNOOOOOOOOOOO!**"

The contents of the bottle spilled out into the tornado of artron energy, instantly annihilating, causing an explosion which ripped through the entire prison.

But before he lost consciousness, the Master heard a whisper.

"… _he is called, the Kwisatz Haderach."_


	7. The Temple on Cantolis Part 2

"_I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn my inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."_

_- The Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear_

**The Temple of Psyche, Cantolis, Starspen Galaxy - YEAR 2010 AD**

They were nearly as old as the universe itself. And for eons, it had found itself being terrorised by them.

Nobody knew for certain where the Weeping Angels came from; some hypothesised they were humanoids once, originating from Dis, a planet which had long been in myth. Others disagreed.

In the Dark Times, the Angels had been at their height. It was an evil and chaotic period within history, where monstrous beings spread chaos throughout the universe. Some were so powerful, that the Angels seemed like teddy bears in comparison. But nonetheless, the suffering which they had wrought should certainly not be considered trifle. Quadrillions of sentient life forms had fallen to them during those terrible times; being removed from the Web of Time itself.

When Gallifrey's ascension to power had ended the Dark Times, the Angels, like all the rest of those terrible beings, found their own power diminished. But unlike many, they had succeeded in surviving, continuing to remain a threat to the universe.

They were the interstellar parasites of the cosmos. In large enough groups, they went from planet to planet, consuming the temporal energy of the races they removed from the Space-Time Continuum. Feeding on the potential moments they could have had.

And now, as the Tenth incarnation of the Doctor noticed, Cantolis may have become yet another of their victims.

"But I cannot keep not blinking," Jamie protested in response to the Tenth Doctor's warning. "It's impossible to do such a thing."

"Blink with one eye at a time, Jamie," the Second Doctor pointed out. "But whatever you do, you must not turn your eyes from the Angels."

"But- But what are they, Doctor?" Jamie asked fearfully.

"They are the Weeping Angels, Jamie," said the Tenth Doctor. "Creatures from the dawn of time. They feed off temporal energy; especially temporal energy off other life forms. If their in a weakened state, they'll send you back in time; you'll continue to live, but the Angels would feed on the potential moments you could have had in your original time. But if their strong, well… they'd feast on you by removing you from time itself."

Jamie gulped.

"They can't move though," Jamie said, with fear audible in his voice. "Why's that? Why can't they just attack us, right now?"

"Because they technically don't exist as long as we perceive them," the Tenth Doctor replied. "Their quantum-locked. It's a defence mechanism; when we look at them, they turn to stone. After all, how can you kill a statue? But when we look away, they can move. And they move incredibly fast. In the time it takes you to blink, an angel can kill you, removing any trace of you from time and space."

"Another thing, Jamie," said the Second Doctor. "You mustn't look into their eyes. They can infect the visual cortex, leaving an imprint of themselves within our minds. The imprint then can eventually become an angel itself, leading to… well, not a very pleasant outcome."

There was silence for a brief time, as the three men stood watching the angels, who predictably remained still. Jamie trembled in fear, while the two Doctors thought of how their deadly problem could be solved.

"So," the Second Doctor finally said, the comment directed at his future incarnation. "You think it is the Black Guardian which has lead them to the Temple?"

"Almost beyond any reasonable doubt," the Tenth Doctor replied. "I was warned by the other Guardian, the White Guardian, that his counterpart would be making plans against me. Plans which, as I think you can see, would lead to a rather premature death. For that, and the Angels appearance here to be unrelated, would be the greatest coincidence… we-llll, ever."

"Is see. But your business with the Guardians? You still haven't explained-"

"That can wait. I believe we have far greater problems right now."

The Second Doctor nodded in agreement, before saying, "The elevator."

"I'll get to work on the controls. You and Jamie keep your eyes-"

"-ON US."

It was a basso rumble, which intensified the fear of the three men. And it seemingly came from one of the angels.

"Was that an angel?" Jamie asked stunned.

"I believe it was," came the reply from the Second Doctor.

"That's impossible," said the Tenth Doctor, who was totally baffled by the latest revelation. "The Weeping Angels can't speak. They have no voice."

"We have no voice, but we may manipulate the voice of another," came the same basso rumble, which sounded to be coming from an angel stood at the centre of the front row of those ever motionless beings.

"Who are you?" the Second Doctor questioned. "What is your name?"

"The Angels are nameless. But my voice once belonged to Philastreus, High Priest of this very temple," the Angel replied. "We killed Philastreus, but removed his cerebral cortex, reanimating a version of his consciousness to speak on behalf of us."

"But why? Why did you take his voice?" asked the Tenth Doctor. "An Angel has no need to speak."

"But we do. At least now," said Angel Philastreus, without even a tinge of emotion in his words. "We wish to negotiate."

"You wish to negotiate?" the Second incarnation of the Doctor questioned. "Why?"

Angel Philastreus however seemingly ignored the question, instead asking, "Will you negotiate?"

"**I** will," said the Tenth Doctor, making sure he replied before his other self could. "Though I wish to have some words with my companions, first."

"You may," the Angel answered simply.

The Tenth Doctor sidestepped slightly to the left, getting closer to Jamie and his younger self, as he kept his eyes focused upon the stone angels. He then whispered, "I'll talk to them."

"Wouldn't it be better if-" the Second Doctor said, before his future incarnation cut him off.

"No. I've had more experience with dealing with them, so it has to be me. You stay here and fix the controls. I'll buy you some time."

"What d' yah mean, Doctor?" Jamie questioned. "If the angels can't move-"

"Remember the lights going off, Jamie?" the Tenth Doctor replied. "Well, that was the angels. If they manage to turn them off again, even for one second, it may be enough time for them to strike. They need to be distracted."

"So what can I do, Doctor?"

"You can come with me, and keep your eyes on them, Jamie. Especially as the _old man_ here will be busy working on the controls."

"_Old man_? Ha!" the Second Doctor snorted, recognising the irony of the statement. "I may look old, but it is you who is going senile, dear fellow."

"Oh, you _poor thing_," the Tenth Doctor grinned. "Come along, McCrimmon. Let's leave the old man to fix the controls."

The Second Doctor grumbled, before turning his back and pulling out his own sonic screwdriver.

_And I thought my Third self was bad_, he thought. _All is forgiven, Scarecrow._

As he began work on fixing the elevator controls, his companion, Jamie, and his future self walked forward several paces. They were much closer to the angels now, but still close enough to make a break for the elevator. It was then that the Tenth Doctor spoke.

"So, you Angels want to negotiate, eh?" he questioned, in a manner where one would think he wasn't taking the matter seriously. "Quite unlike you lot usually. Usually just silently wiping people from the Continuum. But before we begin, I've got a question."

"Which would be?" Angel Philastreus inquired.

"Was it the Black Guardian who sent you?" the Doctor asked, this time in a more serious tone.

"Your assumption is correct, Time Lord," the Angel replied. "We were indeed sent by the Dark One."

"And did he tell you why?"

"He told us only that his opposite had sent you on a mission. He did not tell us what this mission was, but we do not care. What only concerns us, is you."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "And I take it that this where the whole negotiation thing comes in, yes?"

"We are willingly to make you an offer."

"Enlighten me," the Tenth Doctor said simply.

"As your mission concerns the Guardians, it must be of clear importance," said Angel Philastreus. "We therefore give you the following offer; you will surrender yourself and your TARDIS to us. In return, we will spare your companions and their TARDIS. They will be left to complete the mission to which you have all been assigned."

"So, you're disobeying the Black Guardian?" asked the Doctor. "Do you think that is wise? He has a habit of disposing of agents who try and double-cross him."

"We have no contract with the Guardian," the Angel answered. "He only directed us to his planet. He has no power to strip us of life!"

The Doctor paused for a moment, thinking to himself. He suddenly then realised that the sound of the sonic screwdriver had stopped. His future incarnation had managed to fix the elevator controls. They could leave the corridor, now. But the Tenth Doctor had one more question for the Weeping Angels.

"Just one last thing, before I consider your offer," he said. "It is clear that you have deprived the life of every Cantolian who was within the Temple. But did you do the same to every Cantolian on this world?"

"There are only a few dozen of us here within this temple, but across Cantolis we number in the hundreds. Enough of us to wipe out the entire Cantolian species."

_Genocide_, the Doctor thought, totally enraged. _But at least that now gives me a resolution on dealing with the Angels._ _I can destroy Cantolis._

"So, have you reached a decision?" Angel Philastreus inquired several seconds later.

"Woah. You didn't give me very long did you?" the Tenth Doctor asked. "Very well, then. I only have one thing to say."

"Which would be?"

"ALLONS-Y!" he shouted, as he turned and ran, then crying, "RUN JAMIE!"

The two men sped back to the elevator, as the Second Doctor opened its doors. All three of them zoomed in, before closing the elevator doors. There was then a blood curdling scream, followed by two immense crashes against the doors. The Two Doctors jumped in fright, as Jamie fell to the floor.

"Bleedin' hell!" he cried, as the elevator began its ascension to the second level. There were several more bangs against the door, until finally the elevator had ascended out of the attacking angels way.

"Oh my giddy aunt, Jamie," said the Second Doctor. "That was certainly a fright."

"Yah can say that again, Doctor," Jamie said, getting up off the floor. "So those angels can move then."

"As I said," the Tenth Doctor spoke. "The minute we stop looking at them, the angels can move. No longer just statues."

"You two got a plan, anyway?" Jamie asked, a few seconds after the Tenth Doctor's reply. "Y' know, as those things are still out there."

"Yes, your quite right, Jamie," the Second Doctor replied. "We do indeed require a plan. The question is how can one- Hang on," he said, as an idea popped into his head. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked his future self.

"Yes. Though I had that idea a couple of minutes back. Given the situation, I think it may well be our only option."

"Well, go on then," said Jamie. "Surely yah going to tell me?"

"We're going to destroy the planet, Jamie," said the Second Doctor.

"Destroy the planet? What? How?"

"Stellar evolution. Were going to turn Cantolis' sun into a red giant," the Tenth Doctor said.

"You see, Jamie," said the Second Doctor. "As I believe I have explained to you before. Stars have a limited lifespan. Your Sun and Cantolis's, are both Class G main sequence stars. They last for around ten billion years, until they burn out the hydrogen in their cores. After that, they turn into red giants, expanding massively in size, until finally they shed their outer layer and recede to become white dwarfs."

"What we are going to attempt, Jamie," the Tenth Doctor explained, "is through the TARDIS, we are going to speed up this extremely long process, so Cantolis' sun becomes a red giant within minutes."

"Ah, so that's how yah going to do it," Jamie realised. "Your gonna' have Cantolis destroyed by this wee red giant."

"Precisely," said the Second Doctor. "Cantolis will be quite literally consumed by its own sun. And not even an Angel can survive that."

"Of course," said the Tenth Doctor, turning to his younger incarnation, "you're going to have show me where your TARDIS is first."

"Indeed, though there is the matter of your TARDIS as well," his younger self pointed out.

"You can materialise your TARDIS into mine," the Tenth Doctor replied.

"Can that be done, Doctor?" Jamie asked, puzzled by the concept. "I thought they were both the same TARDIS."

"They are, and it certainly is a bizarre concept. But nonetheless one which is possible, as they are both from two different time periods," explained the Tenth Doctor. "His," he said, glancing at his past self, "and mine."

Jamie slowly nodded. He found the idea terribly weird, but now understood how it could be done.

"Oh aye, but let me just get this right," he said, his words directed at the Tenth Doctor. "When we reach the second level, my Doctor is going to take you back to the TARDIS. He'll then materialise it into your TARDIS, before we use one of them to turn this planet's sun into a red giant, destroying the angels. And then we leave?"

"Yep. As clear as an un-muddied lake, Jamie. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer- Oh dear," the Tenth Doctor said, stopping himself. "Sorry about that, I've been quoting Clockwork Orange lately. But yes, Jamie, that's exactly what we are going to do."

The Second Doctor rolled his eyes, frustrated by the wackiness of his successor.

But he was now beginning to suspect that this was merely a mask. His successor's silliness was a front, hiding more powerful emotions within the depths of his mind. And whatever they were, was not good.

_But what can it be?_ the Second Doctor thought. _Will something terrible happen in my future?_

He shuddered, feeling more fear than had even shown towards the Angels. He considered forgetting the matter, but he could not. He had to know.

_I'll ask him, later. Besides, there is much he needs to tell me anyway._

"Of course," he said. "There is still the problem of the Weeping Angels themselves. We know there out there, and that they will kill any of us if given the opportunity. We need to cover ourselves from any form of attack. Jamie," he said turning to the Highlander, "it would be a good idea if you have your head turned, covering us from behind."

"Of course, Doctor," he replied. "Though there's a good chance I might fall over doing that."

The Tenth Doctor chuckled.

"Oh, Jamie McCrimmon," he said with a smile. "I truly have missed you."

Before the Scotsman could answer, the elevator came to a stop. There was ding, followed by the doors of the elevator opening, revealing yet another huge corridor.

"Ok, this is it then," said the Second Doctor. "Follow me, and RUN!"

In less than a second, the Tenth Doctor and Jamie complied with his command; all three of them sprinted out the elevator, with the Second Doctor in the lead, as the Tenth Doctor gripped onto Jamie's arm to give him support. They passed doorway after doorway, until eventually the Second Doctor led them through a doorway to the left, just before the end of the corridor. The doorway itself was the entrance to a rocky passageway, lit by disc shaped lights which hung from its ceiling.

A minute later, they had arrived in a chamber taken up by a pool of water, in which the Hand of Psyche stood half submerged within the centre. The Second Doctor led them around the pool and through an archway to the right, entering a corridor, though of far less stature than the ones the Tenth Doctor had seen.

And it was there were the trio's problems began.

As they sped down the corridor, they heard the sounds of almost childlike giggles. Barely a second later, the lights briefly flickered out, revealing that there were now two angels in pursuit.

"There's two angels behind us!" Jamie cried spotting them. Then when the lights flickered out several times, he shouted, "There gaining on us!"

"There are shutters up ahead!" the Second Doctor shouted, remembering the detail, as he pointed to an open doorway barely a hundred metres ahead. "If we can get there, we can seal the angels off!"

They continued on, as the lights kept on turning constantly on and off. At last they came to the entranceway, sprinting through, as the Second Doctor barked, "I'll get the barrier down! Cover me from the front and behind!" He then approached the door controls and pulled out his screwdriver, getting to work immediately.

As he tried fixing the controls, the Tenth Doctor and Jamie both stood still, gazing in opposite directions. The lights kept on flickering, and as the Tenth Doctor noticed (who was covering the back), the angels were getting closer and closer.

"I'd hurry up, you know!" he shouted. "There barely fifty feet away now!"

"I'm working as fast as I can, you stupid buffoon!" the Second Doctor retorted.

"Thirty feet!" the Tenth incarnation of the Doctor cried. "Twenty feet! Ten feet! HURRY UP!"

"I've done it!"

An instant after the cry, the metal barriers at last descended, sealing off the other section of the corridor. There were several loud crashes against the shutter, but the angels were not able to get through.

"That should hold them for awhile," said the Second Doctor.

"Phew, that was certainly a close call, Doctor," said Jamie, who was extremely relieved.

And then the lights briefly turned off, revealing an angel, who was grasping the Second Doctor tightly by his coat. Its face contorted horrifically.

"Oh, my word!" Jamie cried.

"Get me out! Get me out!" shouted the Second Doctor, who was terrified beyond belief.

His future incarnation and Jamie rushed towards him. They managed to drag him out of his tatty old coat, which remained in the clutches of the Angel.

"RUN! RUN!" he boomed.

The three of them sprinted ahead as fast they could, as the Tenth Doctor clutched onto Jamie's arm, who remained staring at the Angel.

"Where on earth did that angel come from?" questioned the Tenth Doctor, still shocked by the sudden event.

"There was a passage to the right," Jamie replied, as they all ran. "It must have come from there."

The Second Doctor led them through more passages, chambers and all kinds of strange rooms. Eventually however he took them through a rocky passage, where the sounds of running water could be heard. Soon enough, they emerged out of the passageway and onto a thin steel bridge, which lay across a fast moving underground river.

"Were not far now," the Second Doctor stated, as they ran across the bridge. "The TARDIS is in a hall, just on the opposite side of the river."

The lights turned out, then back on.

"More angels!" Jamie exclaimed, spotting them in pursuit. "Four of them have just come out of the passageway!"

They crossed the bridge, running through a corridor, before arriving at an open wooden door. They ran through, into a large chamber lit by hanging bowls of flame; the Tenth Doctor temporarily stopping, closing the door and sealing it with his sonic screwdriver.

"That won't last very long, Doctor," Jamie pointed out.

"Long enough," the Tenth Doctor replied, as they continued to follow his younger self.

They ventured on through the hall, which was mostly covered in darkness. And other than the sounds of the three sprinting men, the chamber was filled with an eerie silence. But this was soon broken by the sounds of the vulnerable wooden door being broken down.

"They've got through!" shouted Jamie.

"Don't worry!" replied the Second Doctor, trying to reassure the other two men. "The TARDIS is straight ahead! Look!"

_He's right_, the Tenth Doctor mentally agreed, seeing that the Second Doctor's TARDIS come into view, half hidden by the darkness of the chamber.

But unfortunately for the trio, the comfort of knowing the TARDIS was ahead was ruined by a revelation of Jamie McCrimmon's:

"More angels! There coming out of the darkness! Dozens of them!" he exclaimed, as the bowls of fire kept flickering out.

"We're nearly there," said the Tenth Doctor. "We can make it!"

And luckily, in the nick of time, they did.

The Second Doctor opened up the machine (in its ever present guise as a 21st Century blue police box), with the three men scrambling inside just before the accursed angels reached them.

"Dear me," said the Second Doctor, crouched, panting out of breath. "That was a close call."

"Just as I remember it."

"Sorry?" asked the Second Doctor, confused by his successor's sudden remark.

"I mean the console room," came the reply. "Its just as I remember it."

And it certainly was. Very unlike how his TARDIS' console room was now. The room was considerably smaller, not to mention far duller and synthetic. Beige roundels dotted the walls, which like the floor were grey. The console was also grey, similar in size to his own, but was hexagonal rather than round. The time rotor too, which was located in the console's centre, was far shorter, standing at less than a foot in height.

"You mean to say, you've changed the console room?" the Second Doctor questioned, almost in fear at the thought that his future self had changed the room's theme.

"Yeah," the Tenth Doctor replied, acting as if his predecessor's question was fairly harmless. "Twice actually. Got a bit bored with the old theme in about my seventh body. Its coral now, by the way."

"What? You changed the console room's theme, to _coral_? What in Rassilon's name were you thinking?"

"Um, Doctors," said Jamie, interrupting the conversation. "Shouldn't we be like getting out of this place? Y' know, as we still got ourselves a small of army angels outside."

"I wouldn't worry, Jamie," answered the Tenth Doctor, treating the Scotsman's concern as a mere trivial matter. "The hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't break through those doors, so I can't see the angels succeeding," a second later however, the room started shaking, as the angels tried desperately to break in. "But then again," he said with slight unease, "for comfort's sake, perhaps we should be off."

He got up off the floor, dashed to the console, before fiddling with the controls.

"Now then," he said. "Let's get the old girl parked within herself, shall we? Fourth level, here we go!"

The TARDIS dematerialised, reducing the angels hopes of consuming the three time travellers, to dust. Unknowingly to them however, the TARDIS' escape also signalled their deaths.

They had failed.

Within the Second Doctor's TARDIS, there were several huge crashes, as the Tenth Doctor attempted to get the time capsule to materialise within his own TARDIS. Jamie, who had just got up, once again fell to the ground. The Second Doctor too found himself on the floor, as his Tenth self clung desperately to the console for balance. An arc of blue lightning appeared out of nowhere, hitting the door of the inner door of the console room.

"What kind of landing was that?" asked Jamie infuriated, as the console room returned to normal.

"Nothing which can be said to be my fault, McCrimmon," the Tenth Doctor replied. "Just a little side effect of the Blinovitch Limitation Effect, you know. After all, I have materialised us within the same TARDIS. As a matter of fact, that was actually some quite impressive piloting by myself; could easily have a led to a Time Ram. Now then, let's getting crack shall we? Allons-y!"

He opened up the TARDIS inner doors, before exiting the room and going through the outer (police box) doors, entering into his own console room. His past self and Jamie McCrimmon soon followed; the latter mesmerised by the sight before him, while the former seemed somewhat disgusted.

"So this your TARDIS then, Doctor," said Jamie, as his eyes darted across the room.

"Yep. Or the TARDIS of the future, I should say. Tad bit bigger on the inside isn't it?"

"So you have done it," said the Second Doctor, deeply annoyed. "You had to change it to coral didn't you? And what have you done to the doors? There's only one set!"

"The inner doors are pointless," came the answer from his past self. "There only needs to be one set. But we can discuss this later. We've still got to get rid of the angels, first."

The Second Doctor nodded slowly in agreement, before both Doctors took to the TARDIS controls. Moments later, the TARDIS dematerialised, leaving behind the angel infested temple. It reappeared almost instantly in orbit over Cantolis, as the Two Time Lords continued to work.

"The polarity has been reversed," said the Second Doctor, finally. "We should be seeing the results in moments."

"Seeing the results?" Jamie questioned.

"On the Scanner, Jamie," said the Tenth incarnation of the Doctor.

The trio made their way to the scanner, which lay atop the console, showing a picture of Cantolis' yellow sun. At first nothing seemed to happen, but soon the star began to steadily increase in size

"Millions of years of stellar evolution, occurring in just a few seconds," said the Second Doctor. "It should be a red giant any second now."

The star continued to grow, becoming bigger and bigger by the second. Finally, it entered its red giants phase, turning red and becoming humungous in size, while still continuing its incredible growth. Eventually it became so large that is was nearly as big as Cantolis' orbit, while most of the scanner's screen was taken up by the dying star.

It was then that Cantolis, a planet which had been home to four billion sentient beings, was at last consumed by the raging inferno.

The luminosity of Cantolis' sun had already scorched the surface, evaporating seas and turning cities to less than dust. The angels remained, but their fate was unavoidable. Helpless, unable to do anything to prevent their destruction, as the crescendo of fire descended upon them. The surface of the red giant passed through the planet as if it was nothing more than a brittle shell; pulverising it into fragments, before the fragments themselves were turned into nothing more than gas.

The Weeping Angels screamed, cursing the wretched Doctor, before at last being extinguished out of existence.

As this happened, the pressure and heat of the red giant hit the TARDIS, but its shielding prevented it from even being scratched by the inferno.

A short while later, the star reached its absolute peak in size, before finally imploding in on itself. What remained was the tiny remains of the star's core, a white dwarf, and a crescendo of magnificent multi-coloured energy which had burst out from the implosion. A planetary nebula.

"Its beautiful," Jamie remarked, as the nebula itself grew, just as Cantolis' star had done before meeting its end.

"Yes, Jamie," said the Second Doctor sadly, as all three remained watching the screen. "It is beautiful."

There was silence for a little while, until finally the Tenth Doctor spoke:

"We shouldn't have had to have done that."

The Second Doctor nodded, understanding his successor's words. The angels had been defeated; hundreds of them prevented from ever doing harm to the universe again. But the fact remained that the cost had been immeasurable; the Cantolian race extinct, and Cantolis itself destroyed.

_So much lost._

"I know."

And for the minutes, there was total silence.


	8. Explanations  Part 1

_No matter how exotic human civilization becomes, no matter the developments of life and society nor the complexity of the machine/human interface, there always come interludes of lonely power when the course of humankind, the very future of humankind, depends on the relatively simple actions of single individuals._

_-from The Tleilaxu Godbuk _

**UNIT HQ, Central London- Thursday 22nd**** April 2010 AD**

Lieutenant-Colonel John Smithees passed down the corridor, arriving at the office of British UNIT's senior officer, Colonel Augustus Oduya. He knocked the door.

"Enter."

He opened the door, entering his superior's office, before slowly closing the door behind him.

"Sir," he said, giving Oduya a salute.

"At ease, Lieutenant-Colonel," the Colonel replied.

Oduya sat at his desk, in front of windows which were half hidden by the draperies. Papers were strewn across the table, various reports containing information about advanced technologies and paranormal events, not to mention dossiers from UNIT's international HQ at Geneva. There were even the schematics for a new UNIT anti-gravity aircraft carrier among the jumbled documents.

"Sir, I have a report for you," said Smithees, approaching the desk. "From DCI Reynolds of Scotland Yard."

"And what would this report be about, Smithees?" Oduya questioned, as the Lieutenant-Colonel handed him the brown folder.

"Did you see the news this morning, Sir?" Colonel Smithees replied. "Its about Broadfell Prison burning down."

"No, I'm afraid I didn't get much chance this morning," said Colonel Oduya, as he began examining the report. "Wait a moment. Broadfell Prison? That was the prison where-"

"Lucy Saxon was locked up. I know, Sir. That's why the Met have sent us the report. She's dead."

"Dead?"

"Burnt to death," Smithees replied. "Along with everyone else in the prison, Sir."

"How did the fire start?"

"It was an explosion, but the Police weren't able to determine what caused it. But they did find out where it happened.. A room on what used to be the second floor, where several corpses were found. Including Lucy Saxon's."

"Dear God."

"But that's not all, Sir," said the Lieutenant-Colonel. "The Governor's body was found too in the same place. And then there's the Coroner's report; apparently everyone in the room, other than Lucy and one of the prison guards, were dead before the explosion happened."

_Dead before the explosion happened?_ thought Oduya. _There was something going on there, in that room. And as Lucy was the Master's wife… no, surely that couldn't be it? But its too much of coincidence to assume otherwise._

"Smithees," he said, finally replying to the UNIT officer. "I have a suspicion, a terrible suspicion, that we haven't seen the last of the Master."

John Smithees nodded.

"I agree, Sir. I had the same thought."

"If he has _risen from the grave_, then we have to prepare ourselves," Colonel Oduya said, leaning forward in his chair. "Lieutenant-Colonel. I want the video records of every CCTV camera within a five mile radius of Broadfell Prison to be examined. I also want satellite surveillance of said area. If the Master is alive, then he could still be nearby. Is that understood?"

"Yes Sir. I'll get on to it right away."

"If you find anything of note, tell me immediately. Your dismissed, Lieutenant-Colonel."

**The (Tenth Doctor's) TARDIS, Somewhere in Time and Space**

"So perhaps you can now tell me what this is all about, then?" the Second Doctor asked.

He and his future self, stood alone in the console room of the Tenth Doctor's TARDIS; Jamie having been told to leave barely a minute ago.

"But the TARDIS is difference," the Highlander had protested. "If the console room has changed, then everything else has probably changed. What if I get lost-"

"The layout is still virtually the same," the Tenth Doctor replied. "You'll find your room exactly where it was, during _his_ tenure," he said, referring clearly to his past self. "Now, Jamie. Could you please leave?"

"Oh, very well then. I'll leave you two to have a nice quiet talk then, shall I?" he'd grumbled, before he exited the console room.

Now the two Doctors, one from the past and one from the future, where left to discuss the events which had brought the two of them together.

"Ok, where shall I begin?" the Tenth Doctor said, replying to his predecessor's query. "Ah, yes, I know. The Ood. Remember them?"

"As I think you should remember," said the Second Doctor, "I've never encountered that particular race, but I am aware of them. They're a telepathic race I recall. Humanoid, but have large, bald craniums, and tentacles on the lower half of their faces. You could say that as a race, they are quite similar to the Sensorites."

"Yes, though what you don't know yet is that the Ood are gestalt," the Tenth Doctor replied. "All of them rely upon a central mind for their existence; the Ood Brain. But anyway, by my age I'd have one or two encounters with them. Good old friend to Ood, me," he grinned, before his face turned more serious. "But, they summoned me recently. To the Ood Sphere, in the 43rd Century. I met with their council, and they shared with me some of their thoughts; their prescient dreaming of both the future and the _now_. And what I learned, was truly terrifying."

"And, what is it, that you discovered?" asked the Second Doctor, both curious and afraid of the answer his successor would give him.

"They told me of a paradox forming within the Space-Time Continuum. And if the paradox occurred, then…. it would lead to the Daleks becoming the supreme lifeform within the cosmos. Conquering and destroying every other lifeform across the multiverse, for eternity."

There was a shocked silence. The Doctor's second incarnation unable to believe what he was hearing. He knew full well the chaos which the Daleks would unleash if they ever gained so much power; suffering, on a scale never seen before in all of creation.

_The very possibility it could occur_, he thought, _would be enough to drive any sentient being totally insane. A race of such hate, with that amount of power._

While being much younger than his future incarnation, he'd defeated the Daleks on many occasions. The last time he'd encountered them, he'd infused many of them with the Human Factor, leading to a rebellion which seemingly led to the destruction of the Dalek race. But deep down, the Doctor knew those terrible monsters would endure.

And now his future self brought news that a paradox could give the Daleks what they always desired; the conquest of every universe in existence. Eternal chaos.

"So that's it," he said slowly in dread. "The reason for why you've brought me here. The possibility for the Daleks to bring about everlasting suffering upon every lifeform. But how? Surely there must be a cause for why the paradox would correct itself in such a way?"

"There is, but it wasn't the Ood who told me what it was," the Tenth Doctor answered. "It was the White Guardian. After leaving the Ood Sphere, the TARDIS was stopped in mid-flight by him. And he told me why."

"You seem acquainted with the Guardian," said the Second Doctor. "I take it you have encountered him before?"

"On two occasions, actually," replied the Tenth Doctor. "Once in my fourth body, and once in my fifth."

"But the cause? What is it?"

The Tenth Doctor paused, thinking of how he could explain the situation to his predecessor, in the least damaging way possible. He knew full well, that none of his past self's future incarnations would remember anything of what he told that version of himself. The Second Doctor, as he remembered, was the current errand boy of the Celestial Intervention Agency. And after completing all of his assigned missions, his memory would be erased, leaving not a trace of anything which had occurred after the encounter with the War Chief. It was for this very reason why he, the Tenth Doctor, had no memory of the current events. Nevertheless, the fragile information he possessed, would still deeply effect his past self, even if memory of them would not last.

_The Time War_, the Tenth Doctor thought. _Should I really tell him of it? I was once him; we're the same person, but with just a change of face. But could he cope knowing? Realising that one day he would be alone. Could any Time Lord cope with knowing such an inevitable fate? Oh, how I fear for myself._

"In your future," he eventually said. "Despite whether this paradox happens or not. The Daleks will become powerful; of far greater power than they had in your time. Through the Matrix, the CIA foresaw that the Daleks would one day have the strength to threaten even the Time Lords. They saw that such a future must be avoided at all costs. So they sent me to Skaro, in the far past, in order to prevent the Daleks from ever being created. I delayed their growth by a thousand years, but…. I still failed. And billions paid the price. In your future, there is going to be a war. The Last Great Time War. And both Daleks and Time Lords, as well other such races, will…. will be destroyed. You will be, as I am now, the last of the Time Lords."

Silence descended upon the console room once again, as a number of emotions shot through the Second incarnation of the Doctor. Shock, fear and above all else, sadness. The Doctor could not believe what he was hearing.

"No, no, that can't, that can't happen. The Time Lords, _gone_. No, it can't. It can't!"

"I'm so sorry," said the Tenth Doctor, a tear running down his cheek. "I'm so very sorry."

_It can't be,_ the Second Doctor thought. _It can't be. No, Gallifrey will surely never fall. But, he isn't lying. He isn't lying. They will be gone, and nothing can be done for them._

And now he understood what it was his future self hid. It was loneliness. And it was also guilt. The mania his successor showed at times was a coping mechanism; its design to hide the truth that he had become so terribly sad. He was the loneliest person in the universe.

_And I will become that person._

"I don't know what to say."

"And now, nor do I."

There was not a word spoken for what seemed like hours. But then at last, the Second Doctor spoke.

"But you best tell me the rest. Gallifrey's fate may be determined, but the Multiverse's may not."

"Your right," the Tenth Doctor agreed, though still full of guilt. "I could not prevent the Daleks creation, but my actions on Skaro had more significance than I had supposed. It was the Guardian who told me this. If I had not managed to delay them, well… the acceleration in their technological growth would have lead them to have become the most powerful race in all the cosmos."

"The paradox, that's what it will lead to," said the Second Doctor in realisation. "An alternative timeline in which our actions on Skaro will never have occurred. But why? Unless… no, surely it couldn't be-"

"That we will die, before we even have the opportunity to influence their creation."

"But surely there must also be a reason for that? A particular change in the timeline, which results in our death."

"And there is," the Tenth Doctor said. "It's the Brigadier."

"The Brigadier?" the Second Doctor questioned.

"Remember the Yeti?" the Tenth Doctor asked. "Remember when the Cybermen tried invading Earth in 1968? Well, as you know after the events in the London Underground, the Brigadier was influenced by his experiences so much, he helped found UNIT. But what would happen if the Brigadier never had the opportunity to do so? What if he was never even born?"

"You're suggesting that if the Brigadier is never born, then I would have died during the Cybermen invasion?" the Second Doctor realised. "That the Brigadier is himself the origin of the paradox?"

The Tenth Doctor nodded.

"Oh, dear me," the Second Doctor replied, becoming more and more agitated by the second. In all his centuries, he had never heard such a collection of bad news. Gallifrey was doomed and a paradox was forming which would lead to the Daleks greatest victory; a paradox that would be caused by one of his greatest friends being wiped out of history. "And I thought that things couldn't get worse."

"But, at least we know what we have to do," said the Tenth Doctor. "That is why the Guardian has brought us together. Me, we, have to stop the paradox must never fully form. We have to safeguard the Brigadier's existence."

"But the Brigadier just can't disappear from time spontaneously," said the Second Doctor. "There has to be a reason, a cause for that too."

"Unfortunately for us though," the Tenth Doctor said regretfully, "the Guardian did not know what the cause is. And it's for that reason, why I have set the co-ordinates for the Brigadier's home on Earth." he pointed at the TARDIS controls.

"I understand," answered the Second Doctor, briefly taking a look at the co-ordinates. "The logical place to begin is with the Brigadier himself."

"There are two more things you need to know though," said the Tenth version of the Doctor. "The Guardian warned me about travelling back into the Brigadier's past. He told me that if I did, then 'time may prevent me'."

"Time may prevent you?"

"But that's not all. In my time, the walls between the universes are closed. A side effect of the Time War. But the Guardian told me these walls are beginning to collapse, once again."

The Second Doctor nodded, before he began pacing around the console room, considering to himself what he had learned. Eventually he approached his future self once more, saying:

"Then we have much to consider."

"Yes, we do."

"When will the TARDIS arrive, exactly?" the past Doctor asked.

"A few minutes I'd say," the future Doctor replied.

"In that case I better have a few words with Jamie before we arrive," the Second Doctor answered. "He needs to have at least some idea of what were facing."

Saying that, he left the console room and made his way to Jamie's bedroom, while the Tenth Doctor remained.

_I just hope that Alistair can cope_, he thought, _of what we are going to have to tell him._

**Surrey, England - Thursday 22****nd**** April 2010 AD**

"Tea, Alistair?" Doris asked, holding a hot kettle in her hands, as her husband spread marmalade on his toast.

"If you wouldn't't mind, Doris," he replied, before Doris poured the boiling water into his cup.

It was nearly half seven in the morning, and breakfast was being eaten in the Lethbridge-Stewart household. The Brigadier had already polished off his bacon and eggs, and was finishing off the meal with two slices of toast. Doris though, had yet to start on her yoghurt, while Gordon's breakfast remained in the oven. The young soldier having not arrived downstairs, still changing into his UNIT uniform.

"You know, Alistair," Doris said, as she plunged her spoon into the carton of yoghurt, "perhaps one of these days you should make breakfast."

"Bah, nonsense," replied the Brig, dismissing her suggestion. "We all have roles, Doris. And me making breakfast isn't one of them."

"Really? Well, what are you roles in the household then, Alistair?"

"Well," he said, as his mind struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. "I do the gardening."

"Fair enough? What else?" Doris asked, toying with her husband.

"Well, um, everyday I go down the village and fetch the newspaper," he said, squirming in his chair. "Oh, and I get the pension from the post office," he added in delight, a smile forming on his lips, as he felt he'd just argued an important point.

"I see," Doris said, before she dealt a terrible blow to his argument. "But Alistair? Who is it who does the washing, cleaning and the ironing? Who makes the beds? Who cooks the meals? Who gets in the shopping? Who does just about everything around the house?"

"Um…. that would be you Doris."

"Exactly," she said, smirking at her defeated husband. "We all have roles, Alistair. Just some people have far easier roles than others."

"I was in the British Army for over twenty five years," the Brig replied, attempting to still mount a defence against his wife's ruthless onslaught. "And then I spent six years teaching at that wretched school. I think I'm entitled to an easy retirement."

"I used to work too you know," Doris pointed out.

"Morning," said Captain Lethbridge-Stewart, who'd just entered the kitchen.

"Morning Gordon," said the Brig, relieved his grandson had arrived, sparing him the 'horrific' agony Doris was inflicting upon him. "Sleep well, did we?"

"Yes, I did actually. Yourself, granddad?"

The Brigadier felt as if there was a stone within his stomach, but just about managed to hide his discomfort. His sleep had been once more been disturbed by those terrifying dreams. But this time, there had been more.

_New dreams._

"I slept well, Gordon."

"Good."

The Brigadier observed his grandson, thinking back to the events of the previous evening. Events in which the two of them realised that there was far more to them than either of them had believed. They had been both changed forever by the revelations which they had found; and the Brigadier felt it was inevitable there would be more horrifying discoveries to come.

_To realise your parents are not your parents_, he thought. _There is little worse than that._

His thoughts then turned to what had happened after that conversation. After they had eaten dinner, he and Gordon had searched through his father's journals, desperately looking for any clue to who he really was.

But nothing had turned up. No hint at all of anything unusual with the nature of his birth; his father having spoken of him being born in a military hospital in Mombassa, before the family moved back to England in the following year.

_If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were still my real parents. It is so seemingly convincing… I want to believe it is true. But that simply isn't the case. I'm not the man I thought I was._

"Plate's still hot," said the Captain, getting his breakfast out of the oven. "Should be warm enough as it is."

"Actually Gordon," Doris said, after taking a sip of tea. "I'd give it about twenty seconds in the microwave."

"Oh, I see," Gordon replied, putting the meal in the microwave. "Thanks, Doris."

She smiled, before asking her step-grandson, as he made his way to the table, "So. What time will you be leaving then, Gordon?"

"As soon as I've eaten breakfast I'm afraid, Doris," he replied, in almost apologetic manner. "I've to got be at Canary Wharf for nine o'clock."

"I see," Doris said, a frown appearing on her lips, signalling her sadness of her step-grandson's sudden departure. "Well, do make sure you visit again some time soon. You will won't you?"

"As a matter of fact, Doris," said the Brigadier, as the microwave pinged. "You'll be pleased to know that Gordon will be staying with as again tonight."

"Really?" she asked, her frown turning into a smile. "Oh, that would be wonderful, Gordon."

"Yeah," the Captain replied, getting his plate out of the microwave and approaching the table once more, taking a seat. "I'm still helping granddad look through his father's old journals."

"So you still haven't found whatever it is your looking for?" Doris questioned, wondering what the two men could possibly be searching for. "And if you don't mind me asking, what is that the two of you are trying to find in those old diaries?"

"I'll tell you later, Doris," said the Brigadier.

"Oh, so its surprise then? Or are you just being rude, Alistair?"

"Of course I'm not being rude," he protested, before his tone became more grave. "But you could say it is, well…. a surprise."

"Yeah, granddad's right," said Captain Lethbridge-Stewart, supporting his grandfather. "It is-"

He stopped mid-sentence, distracted by an odd faint noise, barely audible, coming from somewhere outside the house.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, getting up from his chair, as his eyes constantly glanced across the kitchen.

"Hear what?" inquired Doris, before shooting a puzzled look at her husband.

"By Jove," the Brigadier remarked, hearing the sound and realising what it was; making out the wheezing and groaning sound, which was so familiar to him. "He's actually come."

"Who's come?" questioned Doris, her confusion ever growing. "Alistair, what is going on?"

"Isn't it obvious, Doris?" he replied, getting up out of his seat. "Its him. The Doctor."

And before Doris had the opportunity to reply, he sped out of the kitchen and out into the back garden; now recognisable as the source of the terribly odd noise.

"Alistair! Alistair!" Doris cried, as she too ran out after him, with her husband's grandson in pursuit. "You'll tell me this minute, what on earth is going on!"

Chasing after the pair, the Captain could not but help feel excitement at the event now in motion. After all the years of hearing his grandfather's stories, he was now about to meet the man who was considered almost legendary within UNIT's ranks. The Doctor, the eccentric former scientific advisor to UNIT; the alien, who travelled through time and space through an old police box.

_After all these years. At last._

He continued following the couple, until at last his grandfather stopped before an azalea bush. All three of them stared in awe as the shape of blue police telephone box started to appear, as the wheezing and groaning still carried ever on. Barely a moment later, the bizarre sounds stomped in a thump, the police box now fully materialised before the purple bush.

The door opened.

And out came a man, who appeared to be in his late thirties. He was tall and thin, his eyes and hair, brown. He was good looking, but also appeared rather odd, not helped by his choice of clothing; wearing a dark brown suit along with a pair of white trainers.

And he stood silently watching the curious, shocked onlookers. His eyes eventually settling upon the figure of the Brigadier.

"Doctor?" the Brigadier said, almost in disbelief that his old friend stood before him.

He had never met this incarnation of the Doctor before, but was able to recognise his visage from the UNIT files. It was this Doctor, he noted, who'd assisted UNIT during the whole ATMOS affair; an event where the Brigadier had unfortunately found himself stranded in Peru of all places. Nonetheless, he felt he knew the time traveller so intimately now, that he could recognise him almost instinctively; without need of photos and descriptions. He knew him, this alien time traveller, more than any other man save his own grandson.

He was the greatest friend he would ever have.

"Doctor."

"Alistair," the time traveller replied, a tinge of sadness on his features. "It's been too long."

"Twenty one years," the Brigadier said. "Twenty one years, and you've finally come back."

"Alistair, I'm sorry," the Doctor apologised, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I should have come earlier. I knew-"

"Oh stop it. Stop it, you old fool. What is there to be sorry about? You've come back, and that's all what matters."

"But I-"

"Stop it," the Brigadier spoke once again, before approaching his old friend. "Now come here."

And like brothers, the two men embraced.


	9. Hunger

Author's Notes: It should be bore in mind, that the Kralizec mentioned should be distinguished from pinky and the brain's evil!machine nonsense.

* * *

"_And out of the void… He came. The mortal who had ascended to become a god; time itself embodied in humanoid flesh. He saw and perceived all, none able to escape his prescient vision. And he spoke thus:_

"_I am Oedipus. And I bring forth the will of God.""_

_- from "The Rassilon Chronicles" by Aedrothripulius of the Prydon Academy_

**South London - Thursday 22****nd**** April 2010 AD**

The Master was positively ecstatic.

Not only had he survived Lucy's interference, but now… finally after all these centuries, he had realised the truth of the drums.

_BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!_

As ever they continued…. forever on and on and on. But at least now, the Master had discovered what they foretold.

_Kralizec._

He continued to walk on, passing through a quiet suburban street. He was dressed in a hoodie and a pair of track suit bottoms; his hair now white-blonde instead of dark brown, a product of his resurrection. Seeing a balding middle-aged man leave a nearby house, though, aroused another thing which had come from the disrupted resurrection.

_Hunger._

He was nearly a millennia old, but at this moment his desire to feed had never been so strong. Cheese, chicken, pork, rice from Quintillus, gumblejack… he had to eat. Even to feast on sentient life, right now, would not be of any qualm. After all, the amount life he had taken was impossible to count; what difference would it make if such life was also digested?

_But why? Why I am so hungry?_

But it was question he already knew the answer to. He was dying.

_Lucy. That wretched woman, Lucy._

Her attempt to kill during his resurrection had failed of course. She had delayed too long in introducing the potion, not realising the concoction had to be introduced immediately during the ritual. But while he had survived the annihilation of those particles, leading to that powerful explosion, the deadly effects of her accursed interference remained.

His metabolism had been shredded. Damaged to such an extent that he required vast quantities of energy to replace the sheer amount being lost. It was for this reason that he needed to feed; consume anything edible he came across. But this could only be a temporary solution. The damage done to him ever continued to grow; his body would last but two years at the most.

So a more permanent solution needed to be found.

Regeneration was an obvious option, but an ultimately futile one. The damage done to him would merely pass onto the next body. Not to mention regeneration in his current state could potentially lead to irreversible brain damage. No, what the Master required was an _entirely_ different body. Simply not just transforming his current body into that of another in the regenerative process, but a transition of his consciousness into the body of someone else.

_Ah yes_,he remembered. _Like when I took the body of that fool, Tremas._

Of course even with this solution there was still a problem. On Traken, he had been able to take Tremas' body as he still possessed some of the power of the Keeper. To transit his consciousness and biodata into another body, he would need much, much energy. But again this issue was resolvable. The disrupted resurrection had left him brimming with artron energy. All he would require was a way of effectively channelling this energy, in a such a way that his consciousness could inhabit the body of another.

But in the meantime he had more pressing concerns. He needed to eat.

_He would make an eatable appetiser_, the Master thought, still watching the middle-aged man, as he got into his car. _But no! It would be too visible absorbing him here. I must not gain attention to myself._

Acknowledging he would have to wait before his next meal, the Master's thoughts turned once more to the drums.

_Oh my drums, my ever beating drums. Now I know what you are._

When he was but eight, looking into the Untempered Schism upon Gallifrey, he had first heard them; the rhythm of four. He wondered what they were, questioning also why it was he who had been cursed with them. But now he realised the drums were no curse. They rather brought about the means of his salvation… his complete victory.

_Kralizec, the Typhoon Struggle._

He had always considered the drums signalled the call of war, but it was only now that he knew this for certain. The drums were part of a revelation, a gift to him from time itself. And his resurrection had revealed more of that revelation to him.

_The Kwisatz Haderach._

If he could but control that creature, the thing which possessed the key to winning Kralizec, then he, the Master, could assume mastery over not just this universe… but over everything in creation.

_He is my key. The key to my rule over all of the Multiverse. My final, glorious victory. Becoming Emperor over all._

He chuckled to himself, leaving the street, moving down an out of the way footpath. A golf course was to his left, and in the distance he could the thwack of a golf club and a cry of, "Fore!" He carried on down the path, hoping an unsuspecting victim would soon pass by.

His prayers were answered almost immediately. He followed the bend of the path, coming into sight of a track suited, dour looking man, who looked to be in his early forties.

"Nice day for a walk isn't it?" the Master asked the 'victim'.

"Excuse me, mate?" the man replied, revealing his cockney accent.

"I said, nice day for a walk isn't it?" said the Master.

"Yeah, whatever mate." He carried on walking.

"Not in the mood for a chat, are we?"

The man stopped.

"What the fuck did you-"

But he was never given the chance to finish his sentence. Full of artron energy, the Master's resurrection had given him much power; enhanced reflexes and strength, as well as the ability to release bolts of the energy which now possessed him. He shot one such bolt at his naïve victim, throwing the simpleton several feet back into the bushes.

"I think you'll agree," said the Master, with a devilish grin, eyeing the man as a tiger would to its prey. "That getting me riled was the not best decision you'll ever make, was it?"

"W-w-what was that? W-w-what are y-you?" the victim questioned, stuttering in utter fear, unable to conceive what had just occurred.

The Master laughed.

"Of course, it will also be the last decision you'll ever make," he said, almost ignoring the man's questions. "But allow me to introduce myself. Your pathetic race knew me as Harold Saxon. But my true name… is the Master!"

"H-H-Harold Saxon?" the victim said in realisation, though still trembling in utter dread. "You! Y-You're a freak! You're a freak!"

He got up out of the bushes and tried to escape, but the Master had no intention of letting his prey go free. From his right hand he released another bolt of artron energy, which hit the running man squarely in the chest. Rather than collapsing to the ground though, the man was suspended midair, as the Master continued to pour more of his energy into him. In total agony, the man screamed.

"AAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Yes, feel the pain!" the Master bellowed in sheer delight. "Feel it! You will be just the one of many who will do! Now, _die_."

And with that spoken, the Master began his absorption of the cockney man. The screams continued, as the Time Lord began to absorb anything of nutritional value.

"YYYAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

If it was as if the man was made out of wax; his body starting to melt away. His eyeballs turned to goo, his teeth fell out, his ears turned to vapour. To any sane being, it was totally sickening; horrific beyond belief. But the Master was no sane being. And he was also hungry.

By the time he was finished, all what remained were scraps of clothing and a charred skeleton. Muscle, internal organs, arteries, anything edible… had all been consumed in the Master's hunger.

"An interesting snack," he remarked, releasing his hold over what had once been the cockney man. "But I'm still hungry. So, _hungry_!"

Perhaps he'd eat something more socially acceptable this time.

**Surrey, England - Thursday 22nd April 2010 AD**

"So it's true then," Doris said, as her husband and the Doctor continued to embrace. "You can change face."

The two men released each other, with the Doctor turning to face the wife of his oldest friend. "Doris Lethbridge-Stewart," he said, a smile appearing on his face. "You haven't aged a day."

Doris didn't answer at first, still slightly shocked at the Doctor's sudden arrival. What Alistair had told her about the Doctor was indeed true. He'd been a short, somewhat podgy man with a Scottish accent the last time she had saw him. Now he was tall, thin, spoke with an Estuary accent and looked several years younger than he had been.

_So he can change himself_, Doris thought, both somewhat disturbed and fascinated by the revelation. _He appears different, but he is still the same man._

She smiled.

"You are flattering, Doctor," Doris said. "But it seems that you on the other hand have got younger."

"Well… yes, quite naturally of course," the Doctor grinned. "Regeneration you know. Had about three since we last met. Still, anyway." He turned to the Captain, "You must be old Alistair's grandson. I'm the Doctor, the Tenth," he said, extending a hand.

"Captain Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart," Gordon replied, shaking the Time Lord's hand. "I'm from UNIT as you can tell." He pointed at the UNIT insignia on his garb.

"Yes, I certainly can. Following in the old man's footsteps, eh?" the Doctor said with a grin.

"You could say so," Captain Lethbridge-Stewart replied. "But, Doctor. I must say that it's an honour to meet you at last. After all-"

"Oh no, not again," the Doctor sighed. "I mean why the constant hero worship? I seem to get it from everyone in UNIT nowadays. You know, I actually preferred the grief your grandfather used to give me when I-"

"Doctor," the Brigadier said sternly, glaring (though not too seriously) at his former scientific advisor.

"Thing is, Doctor," the Captain said, before the Time Lord could reply, "it's hardly unreasonable for me to be pleased at your arrival. My granddad's told stories about since I was a child, like when you stopped the Cybermen invasion in the 60's. So to see finally see you, well, its something I've wanted to happen for years."

"Oh, don't be so serious," the Doctor reassured him. "I was just playing around, Captain. People in the military; have no sense of humour do you?"

He put an arm around the Captain, before saying, "Well I better tell you three about a certain detail. I didn't come here alone."

"What?" the Brigadier asked. "You've got a companion with you then, Doctor?"

"Not exactly, Brigadier," said the Second Doctor, who'd emerged from the TARDIS, disliking any notion which suggested him to be a companion. "Me. And well, McCrimmon too," he added, as Jamie came through the open doors.

"Good heavens!" the Brigadier exclaimed. "Two of you?"

"Yes," the Second Doctor replied, glancing at his future self, realising the question was directed at them. "_Unfortunately_."

**South London - Thursday 22****nd**** April 2010 AD**

"No, please don't!" the young man protested, pleading for any hope of survival. "I'll do anything! Absolutely anything!"

"I'm not interested in your pathetic pleas!" the Master laughed. "The only thing I want is your flesh. And I shall take it now!"

And the young man unwilling became the evil Time Lord's fifth victim of the day. After absorbing his first victim, the Master had consumed two more middle aged men, a woman in her late twenties, before finally moving onto his current meal; a man barely out of his adolescence.

He was at a park now; about two miles from his original crime of the day. He was out of the way of sight though, choosing to absorb his victim under the cover of a small wood. Still, as he now recognised, despite his attempts at being subtle, his presence would be discovered eventually. And he actually welcomed it.

He'd left several charred bodies in his wake, and had made no attempt at hiding them properly. He wanted to be found. He wanted UNIT to find him, capture him and throw him into one of their holding cells. As he realised now, UNIT were his key to finding the Doctor, who in turn was the key to discovering the Kwisatz Haderach, with whom the Master would use to become at last victorious. Kralizec was inevitable, and the Master had to be sure that it was he who won it.

He finished absorbing the young man, his remains falling to the ground. This one, the Master had found, was a delicious snack. Almost as tasty as the female he had devoured. But as ever, his hunger remained.

"More," he growled. "I must eat more."

His thoughts however were then broken; the sounds of whirling propellers filling the air. The Master looked up, seeing a Lynx helicopter gunship beginning to come into view. It hovered around a hundred feet in the sky, decreasing in speed, until finally it stopped directly above him.

He'd been found.

"Hello there!" he cried out at the gunship. "Come to try and take me have you! Well, GO ON THEN! COME AND TRY!"

A pinging sound went off. The Master turned, seeing a net of green energy launched upon him. He tried to get off its way, but even with his improved reflexes he succumbed to the thing's speed. The net caught him, causing him to topple to the ground.

He struggled against his bonds, but it was useless. It was a Synapsian capture net; alien technology which had plundered by UNIT. It solidified, turning to metal, gripping him as tightly as the alloy from a dwarf star.

Several UNIT troops emerged from their cover. They were well armed; equipped with assault rifles and tranquiliser guns. One of the soldiers, who seemed to be in charge, carried the Synapsian net gun; easily distinguishable due to its large, cumbersome appearance. The troops approached the Master, taking up position around the circumference of the net which bound him.

"So you're the Master," the leader sneered.

"Yes, I am the Master. Still remember me at UNIT do you? I'm flattered, I really am. Then I again, I suppose assassinating the US President would jog your memory, wouldn't it?"

The soldier smirked.

"Funnily enough I didn't vote for you," he said. "Your little turn as the charismatic Harold Saxon; I can't say it fooled me. Knew you were trouble the minute you started speaking that bullshit on the news. And then surprise, surprise, it turned out you were actually that alien who's been troubling UNIT since the 70's."

"Oh, you're hilarious, Lieutenant," the Master retorted, guessing at the soldier's rank. "Absolutely hilarious. You accuse me of speaking _bullshit_, yet you so readily speak it yourself. You voted for me. It's so obvious. So, so obvious. You really are predictable, Lieutenant. And then of course there's your whole macho talk-"

"Enough," the soldier growled. "I don't have time for your nonsense." He signalled to a nearby soldier, who was equipped with a tranquiliser gun. "Put him down."

The soldier complied, firing a dart of incapacitating agent at the Time Lord. The Master giggled, garbled out something no-one was able to understand, before he finally lost consciousness.

**Surrey, England - Thursday 22nd April 2010 AD**

"Yes," the Second Doctor replied, glancing at his future self, realising the question was directed at them. "_Unfortunately_."

"What?" said Doris, extremely puzzled by the latest news. "Your another Doctor?"

"Well, yes," the Second Doctor replied. "The Second Doctor to be more precise. A bit younger than my successor over there."

"But how's that possible?" Doris asked, still puzzled as she was. "I mean, how can the two of you be here at the same time? Surely it's a paradox for-"

"Well it would be paradox," said the Second Doctor. "If I remembered it, that is."

"What do you mean by that?" Doris questioned.

"Um, let me explain," the Second Doctor answered, ruffling his hands. "There's nothing paradoxical about me encountering my future self. The universe doesn't end or anything like that. No paradox occurs. But, if I retained the memories of me meeting my future self, then we do have a problem. My only choice would be determinism; I'd have to say and do exactly what I remembered me doing in the past; and as you can imagine, this would certainly be difficult to pull off. Luckily however, I won't end up in such a scenario."

"So," said Doris, still confused, but managing to grasp the main point of the Time Lord's explanation, "let me get this right. You and the other Doctor can meet each other without a paradox happening, because you won't remember meeting him?"

"Yes, that's right, um…. I must apologise, but I don't know your name," the past Doctor said.

"Oh, I'm Doris," she replied. "Doris Lethbridge-Stewart."

"Well once again, Doris, I must apologise. It's terribly embarrassing not knowing the name of the Brigadier's wife," the Doctor apologised.

"Oh, there's no trouble," Doris reassured him. "Your from the past. I understand."

The Second Doctor nodded, feeling somewhat relieved, then turned to Doris's husband.

"Brigadier."

"You. There had to be two of you didn't there?" the Brigadier chuckled. "Well I haven't seen _you_ in nearly thirty years."

"Yes, the whole incident in the Death Zone with four- no, three of my other selves. Now, that was only a few months ago for myself," the Second Doctor replied.

"Undoubtedly. Your not really one for being linear in time are you, Doctor?"

"Of course, Brigadier. Time is relative after all." His attention then came to Gordon. "And you must be the Brigadier's grandson."

"Captain Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, UNIT," Gordon replied. "I have to say Doctor that its an incredible honour meeting just one of you; but never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined meeting two of you. At the same time."

"An incredible honour," the Second Doctor laughed. "Well, you clearly have a lot of admiration for me at UNIT in your time."

"Yeah. I mean the things you did with granddad, or will do anyway, are the stuff of legend. UNIT is what is because of you, Doctor."

"I must say, Captain; that I'm totally flattered by what you've said."

"Yeah, but it's-"

"Um, excuse me," said Jamie, feeling frustrated that he was being ignored. "But haven't yah forgotten to introduce someone, Doctor?"

"Oh I am sorry, Jamie," the Second Doctor said. "The Brigadier already knows you, but anyway…. this is my companion, Jamie McCrimmon. I met him during the Battle of Culloden in 1745; and I have to say, he's been with me quite a while now. Haven't you, Jamie?"

"Aye."

"Jamie McCrimmon," said the Brigadier, shaking the Highlander's hand. "Now, I haven't seen you in over forty years. The past is now revisiting me it seems."

"And your Jamie McCrimmon," said the Captain, moving forward, before extending his own hand. "Granddad told me about you too. Met you twice; in the underground and during the Cybermen invasion, if I'm right?"

"Aye, you are," Jamie replied, shaking the Captain's hand. "You're the Brigadier's grandson then? Must have been quite a while since I last met you then, Brigadier," directing the last comment at the former UNIT commander.

"Forty two years, McCrimmon. It's 2010."

"Oh, aye," the Highlander answered, before his attention came to the Tenth Doctor. "Still can't steer the TARDIS right, Doctor?"

"If you're suggesting that I got the landing wrong, then your mistaken, McCrimmon," the Tenth Doctor said harshly. "I brought us here deliberately."

"And why would that be, Doctor?" Jamie questioned.

"Well McCrimmon, I'm rather fond of this period of human history at the moment," came the answer. "And also because it was a good time in which we could meet the Brigadier."

"Good time?" the Brigadier asked. "Actually Doctors, what exactly are you both doing here?"


	10. Explanations  Part 2

"_Then we have but one choice. We must go to this universe."_

_-the Tenth Doctor_

**Surrey, England - Thursday 22nd April 2010 AD**

"Good time?" the Brigadier asked. "Actually Doctors, what exactly are you both doing here?"

Silence was their answer; the two Time Lords (who were in actual fact the same Time Lord) looking to each other, not knowing what would be the best reply to the Brigadier's question. Eventually however, the Tenth Doctor said:

"Its important, Alistair." It was a poor answer.

"Its important?" the Brigadier questioned, frustrated at the Doctor's vague response. Nonetheless, it was also an answer which made the old soldier fearful. Was it possible that they knew what he and Gordon had discovered? He shuddered at the thought.

"Brigadier," said the Second Doctor, "perhaps its best we discuss this inside. In a more comfortable setting maybe?"

"Yes, that's a good idea," the Tenth Doctor agreed, nervously grasping the Brigadier's arm, trying to usher him into the house. "We should go inside, Alistair. We don't want to discuss anything serious out here, do we?"

"Wait- Hang on! Will you tell me what is going on, Doctor?" the Brigadier protested, though allowed the Tenth Doctor to drag him back to the house. "I mean for God's sake, you haven't told me-"

"Everything will be explained in due course, Brigadier," the Second Doctor simply replied.

The two of them managed to get the Brig back to the house, though the retired soldier kept on demanding what the two of them were doing at his estate. Jamie nearly spilled the beans, but he was told by _his_ Doctor to keep quiet. Doris and Gordon followed, though somewhat nervously; curious and afraid of what the two Doctors were keeping secret. The Captain of course, was more afraid than his step-grandmother; aware, like his grandfather, that the two Time Lords may also know the truth of the Lethbridge-Stewart line.

_Of course, they would have to know eventually anyway_, the young soldier thought. _It's for the Doctor to help us learn the truth about ourselves that we wanted him here._

"Now then," said the Second Doctor, as they all arrived in the kitchen. "Where in this house would it be most appropriate to have our discussion? Somewhere nice and comfortable?"

"The living room, maybe?" Doris suggested. "Or one of the-"

"Yes, the living room will be fine, Doris," said the Tenth Doctor. "It's um, right this way isn't it, if I remember correctly?" He pointed to the kitchen's left door.

"Yes, straight through the landing, the door straight ahead," she answered. "I'll join the four of you in a second. I'm putting the kettle on; you all could do with some tea."

"Oh, that's very thoughtful of you, Doris," the Second Doctor said.

"I'll have mine dark please, Doris," Gordon requested.

They (apart from Doris) trudged off out of the kitchen, through the landing, before arriving at the house's living room. It was a large, spacious room, well decorated, with posh, expensive furniture which could certainly be boasted about by any well off family. The five of them took a seat; either on a chair or on the settee. Doris soon followed, arriving with a tray full of tea filled cups, handing them out to the rest of her company. When she was done, she sat down, taking a sip of her own tea. The Brigadier then asked:

"So are the two of you going to explain why you're here?" He was becoming increasingly frustrated; annoyed that the two Doctors had failed to explain their presence. The Brigadier knew too well that whenever the Doctor's incarnations came together it always signalled trouble. And he greatly feared the news they brought regarded the truths he and Gordon had recently learned. Nevertheless, those truths would have to be discussed; not only did he wish to learn the truth, but he had an instinctual feeling of the consequences which would occur if they were not shared with the Doctors.

"Well, Brigadier," the Second Doctor said, nervousness ever clear in his voice. "I think we should begin with what happened on Cantolis." He turned to the Tenth Doctor, asked, "Would you agree?"

"I'd say so," the future Doctor answered.

"Cantolis?" the Brigadier spoke. "Is this where this whole thing began then?"

"Um, no. Not exactly, Brigadier," the Second Doctor replied. "_He_, had already found out much of what were going to tell you. But it was on Cantolis were we both ran into each other, so to speak."

He then went onto explain all what had happened on that planet which no longer existed. He told them about the Weeping Angels, their flight back to the TARDIS and how in the end they had no choice but to destroy Cantolis; preventing the angels from ever troubling the universe again. Cantolis' destruction had shocked the Brigadier and his family, but they recognised that the two Doctors had little choice. No, what had effected them far more was the prior genocide committed by the malevolent angels. How an entire race had been wiped out in a number of hours by those accursed creatures. Doris in particular had said:

"Those poor, poor people. An entire planet destroyed for mere hunger. I don't think I've heard anything as unpleasant."

"Yes, it is horrible," the Tenth Doctor noted sadly. "But the angels have no qualms in how they feed. As far their concerned, the only life which matters is there own. Guilt and sympathy are concepts alien to them; the only emotion they really know is there own lust."

"And that, as I explained, is why we destroyed Cantolis," the Second Doctor pointed out. "The Weeping Angels had to be stopped from ever causing such harm again."

"Doctor," said the Brigadier directly to the second incarnation of the Time Lord, "you mentioned that a guardian of some kind brought the two of you together on Cantolis. Who is this guardian?"

"Yes, the White Guardian," the Second Doctor replied, the Brigadier's question triggering the memories held in his mind. "Well, I think my successor would me more appropriate for this. As well as anything which he had discovered before I met with him."

"I agree," the Tenth Doctor said, before bringing his attention to the Brigadier. "Alistair, despite what you've seen with me during your UNIT years… the universe is even greater than you suppose. There are things in time and space which even I can't understand. And the Guardians are one of them. I've travelled through time, seen so much, but the Guardians… well, they are the one of the few beings I'm tempted to say which are supernatural. The Time Lords, the Halldons, even the Eternals, could not explain what the Guardians truly are. But there are some things which are known of them. There are two of them; the White Guardian and the Black Guardian. They seem to be anthropomorphic personifications of good and evil in the cosmos, with the White of course representing good, and the Black representing evil. They're so old that they predate the first big bang even; and they are also timeless, existing outside the boundaries of our universe. But they are limited. Their power is immense, but they contradict each other. In order to maintain the balance between themselves, they are constricted in how they are able to influence temporal events. And to fulfil their wishes, they often require the need of agents. Agents such as myself."

"And so the White Guardian has need of both you," the Brigadier recognised, though he was still in some awe from what the Doctor had told him of the Guardians. "But why? What does he need you for, Doctor?"

The Tenth Doctor gulped.

"Well, Alistair. It concerns _you_."

A chill shot up the Brigadier's spine, fear shaking his very being. It was confirmed; the Doctors were here to discuss him.

"What do you mean, Doctor?" he asked, keeping himself under as much control as he could exert.

"Alistair, there is something terrible which could happen. Thousands of years into the future, on the Ood Sphere, I met with a race of beings I know well. The Ood they are called. And the Ood have the gift of prescience. Its limited, but they are able to foresee future events, and even past changes in the timeline. And now, they have foreseen one such a change. A paradox. A paradox which will lead to the Daleks annihilating everything in existence."

"The Daleks?" Captain Lethbridge-Stewart asked gravely. "No, not them again."

"I'm sorry to say it, Captain;" the Second Doctor said, "but my successor is telling the truth."

"But yah didn't explain why there still about, Doctor," said Jamie (to the Second Doctor), who was puzzled and afraid. The Second Doctor had explained to him everything what his future self had told him, but Jamie had still been left wondering how the Daleks had managed to survive. "I mean, when we met the Daleks, they were destroyed. Yah said it was their final end."

"I did, Jamie," the Second Doctor admitted. "But I must confess, I wasn't telling you the complete truth. Even when those Daleks rebelled, turning against the Emperor, I had a feeling that the Dalek race would endure. And now it seems they have."

"Though, that's a moot point anyway," said the Tenth Doctor. "Because the paradox concerns their very creation."

"And the Ood told you that as well?" Gordon asked.

"No, they had no idea why the paradox was being brought about. But the Guardian did," the Tenth Doctor replied. "It was after I had left the Ood Sphere. During mid-flight the Guardian came to me, and he told me what the cause was. Many years ago, during my fourth incarnation, the Time Lords sent me on a mission to Skaro; homeworld of the Daleks. And I was sent to the point of their very creation. My mission was to prevent the Daleks from ever being created. But I failed, the Daleks survived, living on to spread their hate across the universe. I failed. But as I know now, my mission on Skaro was not completely in vain. I had managed to delay their evolution by a thousand years. However, as the Guardian foresaw, if the paradox comes into effect, then my actions on Skaro would never have occurred."

"Which leads to the outcome of the paradox," Captain Lethbridge-Stewart realised in horror, mouth agape. "Good God."

"Yes, your right," the Tenth Doctor answered in a grave tone, wishing that these events had never come about. And he now feared greatly how Alistair would react when he told his old friend the paradox came from him.

_Oh, Alistair. What I'd give for this not to be so._

"But, Doctor," the Brigadier said. "How does this involve me?"

The Tenth Doctor sighed, trying with all his will to keep his emotions under control. His old friend had to be told the truth.

"The cause…. the cause is you, Alistair."

There was a stunned silence.

And Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart could not believe what he was hearing.

_No, it can't be_, he denied futilely. _Me? I'm the cause? Lord, no. And this… this all must be connected to my real identity. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? No! No! No!_

"W-what…. how is this so?" he asked trembling in dread. "How I am the cause, Doctor? You must-"

"You're never born," the Doctor's tenth self answered.

"W-w-what?"

"If the paradox forms, then you'll have never have been born in the alternative timeline." He looked away for a moment, a tear falling from his eye, before turning to face the old soldier once more. "Alistair, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The Brigadier was speechless; unable to put into words how was now feeling. Sadness, confusion, fear, all permeated his mind. What was going on his life?

His grandson was also lost for words. _How in Christ's name can this be happening? It's like some bizarre nightmare. What? What is going on?_

The Tenth Doctor then spoke. "Alistair-" he said, but he was immediately cut off.

"How? How can this be happening, Doctor? Why does it have to me? Everything!" the Brigadier cried.

"Alistair-"

"_**Silence**_," the Brigadier commanded, executed in such a manner that it instantly stopped any attempt by the Doctor to speak. And had the emotional tornado of the Doctor's revelation not swept through the group, the strange tone in which the word was uttered would have greatly concerned the Time Lord. Instead guilt raced across the Doctor's mind, disturbing him immensely. Indeed, why did have to be Alistair?

_Alistair, why?_

"There are some things you do not know, Doctors," the Brig said, totally livid. "Things that I should now tell you."

"Alistair?" exclaimed Doris. "Alistair, what are you talking about?"

"The past, Doris. The past," he replied. "_My_ past."

"I don't understand, Alistair," she sighed sadly.

"No, you wouldn't would you, Doris?" the Brigadier snarled. "You have no idea how I-"

"How dare you!" Doris screamed at him. "How dare you! You I think I don't know how you must feel right now? That after all these years-"

"You don't! You can't possibly know! And you why, Doris? Because you don't know what I know. I'm not who you think I am."

"What?"

"Alistair," the Tenth Doctor said, getting extremely worried, "what is it? What's bothering you?"

"I'm not who you think I am," the Brigadier repeated, though his tone was now milder. "And I'm not who I thought I was. I'm something else."

He paused briefly, as the rest of the group stared at him in awe. And only his grandson knew what he meant; the terrible truth.

"Since I was a child, Doctor, I've been having dreams. And these dreams have filled me with dread. The fear that I am not Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart."

"Granddad-"

"Alistair, please-"

"But it seems I wasn't the only person to have such dreams," the Brigadier continued, then turning to his grandson. "Gordon too has had similar dreams. But at least he has the comfort of knowing he isn't living a lie."

"What?" exclaimed the Tenth Doctor. "What?"

"I'm not from Earth, Doctor. Yes imagine that; imagine how my younger self would have reacted to that, Doctor," he laughed bitterly. "But as much as I try to escape it, it's the truth."

The rest of his company were dumbfounded.

"Oh, I'm human alright. But tell me, Doctors. Who am I? What am I? I must know!" the Brigadier demanded.

Silence reigned, until finally the Tenth Doctor spoke.

"Alistair, I-I-I'm sorry. I wish, I wish that this had all never happened." He paused. "What your saying… I-I don't know what to tell you. It just doesn't make any sense."

"No, it wouldn't," the Brigadier sneered.

"Alistair," the Doctor said, distressed totally by the Brigadier's angst. "Alistair, I'm sorry, but you need to tell me more. I need to know what happens in your dreams."

The Brigadier sighed.

"Ok, Doctor. I suppose you ought to. Very well. The dreams, well, when I was a child I dreamt of another world. It was a world quite unlike our own. It was a desert world; and was a place where water was so scant that its value exceeded even that of a precious ore. There were worms, worms so large that they could consume a warship. And such was their size, they could be destroyed by nothing less than an atomic weapon."

"But it's not the worms which scared me, Doctor," the Brig continued. "It was _them_. Those strange people who lived out in the deep desert. They're clever. They could avoid the worms, but also use them for their own means. They know how to survive, making use of their water, travelling only at night, hiding from the furnace of the day within their underground communities. But there is something haunting about them, Doctor. The eyes. Their eyes are blue with no white. Yes, the Eyes of Ibad they call them."

"The dreams then went, leaving me for what I hoped would be forever. But then they came back. It was in Suez back in '56. And not only did that desert world return, but there were also drums. A drumbeat of four. They-"

"No!" the Tenth Doctor cried suddenly. "No! No! Not that!"

"It can't be," murmured the Second Doctor under his breath, the past self being in utter shock.

"What? What's wrong with the two of you?" the Brigadier questioned.

"The Master," said the Second Doctor.

"The Master?" asked a puzzled Jamie, not knowing to whom the Time Lord was referring to.

"An old friend of mine, Jamie," the Highlander's Doctor replied, still bamboozled by what he had heard. "Who also just so happens to be my oldest enemy."

"But, the Master? What's he got to with the drums?" the Brigadier asked.

The Doctor stared briefly at the retired soldier, his face clearly exhibiting his worry for all to see. He then however said:

"He hears them too. The Master. I thought they were just a symptom of his insanity, but…. if you're hearing them too, then they must be real. That rhythm in his head; it meant something after all."

"The Master heard them too? Dear Lord," came the Brigadier's terrified response.

"It's unfortunate he's dead," said the Captain. "He might have known something."

"Oh, he isn't dead, Captain," the Tenth Doctor replied. "At least, he won't be much longer."

"You're saying he's alive?" questioned the Second Doctor. "But you said-"

"I'll explain later," the Tenth Doctor reassured his past self. "But, Brigadier. You must tell us what else you dreamt of?"

"Much," the Brig replied, before preparing his answer. "The dreams left me again once the military occupation of Suez had passed. But they've returned again, Doctor. Plaguing me more than ever have before. And they tell me so much. It's so hard to explain. They almost unconsciously tell me that all my life is nothing but falsehood. Just one great big lie. And, Doctor; within me there is something which is beginning to awake. Something which I-I just cannot put into words."

He stopped, as grief, anxiety and pain flowed through his self. And once more he asked the question which he hoped that God, the universe or anything could answer.

_Why? Why me? Not only am I not a true Lethbridge-Stewart son, but I could end up going out of existence and causing a paradox which destroys the entire universe. Why? Why did have to be me?_

"Oh, Alistair," Doris then sobbed. "All the years we've been together, and…. and you never said a word. Oh, why couldn't you say something, Alistair?"

Guilt sank deep down within him in response to his wife's outburst. Doris certainly had a right to be angry. He should have said something- but how could he?

"Doris," he said. "I wanted to, I really did. But I didn't want it to concern you. I've tried to ignore it, get on with my life. Then I thought it had gone, gone for good. But it wasn't to be. So now they have returned once again."

Silence descended upon them yet again, every member of the distressed company thinking deeply to themselves, so many thoughts appearing within their minds. Wondering what could be done, utterly shocked at what was happening.

But then finally the Brigadier asked:

"Doctors. Tell me then, what is all this about? Why is all of this happening to me?"

The two incarnations of the Time Lord looked at each other, at first not knowing what to say to their old friend. At last however, it was the Tenth Doctor whom spoke.

"I'm afraid Alistair, I can't be sure for certain," he said, his anxiety and sadness evident. "But, there is clearly a connection between your dreams and the paradox."

"As I feared," the Brigadier stated, clearly disturbed.

"I think there's another connection too," said Gordon. "That rip in the fabric of reality at Torchwood Tower, Doctor. Its opening again. And I think its that which has caused my dreams."

"So that's it," the Tenth Doctor realised. "I should have known when the Guardian told me about the walls of the universe collapsing; it's Torchwood Tower again."

"I think your right, Captain," said the Second Doctor. "There seems to be a connection between all three of these circumstances."

"And now I think I know what it is," the Tenth Doctor said in complete alarm. "Oh dear."

"What is it, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked, urging for the Time Lord to tell him.

"Your dreams, Alistair, are true," came the Time Lord's reply. "There is going to be change within time; an alteration of the timeline. And if this change comes into effect you'll have never have been born, leading to my death at the hands of the Cybermen, radically increasing Dalek evolution. But this change isn't going to come about on Earth. No, not even this galaxy. Alistair, your from a parallel universe."

"A parallel universe," the Brigadier said, terrified and shocked at the Doctor's discovery. His fears it seemed were not misplaced. And he now it looked as if he wasn't even from this very universe.

_No._

"Yes, I'm very much afraid to tell you," the Doctor sighed, his conscience filled with guilt at telling his old friend this horrific truth. "And this desert planet you've dreamed of; I think its your home, Alistair."

"No."

"Yes, it is. And I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? Haven't you apologised enough, already?" the Brigadier questioned sharply, once more sneering at his former scientific advisor.

"Alistair-"

"I've had enough with them!" the Brigadier roared. "Now," he said, in a calmer tone, "you'll tell me who my parents really are."

"But-"

"Well, I'll tell you then!" the old soldier shouted. "They aren't my real parents. I never came from their loins! But you know what, Doctor? I don't care. No, I don't. And you know why? Because they loved me. My so called real parents can rot for all I care! Fucking rot in hell!"

"Alistair, stop it. Stop this please," Doris pleaded, in total agony at her husband's words. "This isn't his fault. How can you possibly take it out on him? He's your _friend_."

"I-" The Brigadier was lost for words, conceding to his wife's reasoning. She was right. How could he take it on the Doctor? His old friend was responsible for none of this. He'd been wrong.

He turned to face the Doctor again, saying, "Doctor-"

"You all of people," said the Tenth Doctor, "have no need to say sorry, Alistair. After all what's happened, I can't say I blame you. To learn what you've learnt." A tear rolled down his cheek.

The Brigadier gulped.

"But your real parents, Alistair," the Doctor continued. "You may hate them, but I think they knew. I think- oh no. Alistair, its my fault! I've done this to you!"

"Doctor, you've done-"

"-nothing? No, not yet. But I will. To save the Multiverse. It's me, I took you away from them. You should hate me, Alistair. I've done this!"

"Doctor," said the Brigadier. It was yet another terrible revelation, but he managed to keep himself under control, appearing as calm as he could ever be, "I can't."

"But you should!"

"No. You're going to do the right thing," he reassured the time traveller. "Compared to what is at stake, Doctor, I'm nothing. Not even a speck of dust. I would be a greater fool than I am, to not realise this."

The Tenth Doctor didn't reply, instead turning to his past incarnation, who was as disturbed as he was. But nevertheless, he said:

"He's right. And it is clear what we have to do."

"Yes, you must do it, both of you," said the Brigadier. "You've got to stop the Daleks. And besides, I'm happier here; living on Earth, here under Her Majesty. With Doris, with Gordon, with everyone I've ever really known. Doctors, you have to do it. I beg you."

The Tenth Doctor tried to rebel against it with all his might, but he could not. His past self and the Brigadier were right; it had to be done.

"Then," he finally said at last, "we have but one choice. We must go this universe."

"But, there is something we must do first," said the Second Doctor. "We're going to speak with your foster parents, Brigadier. Back in the year you were allegedly born. I'm sorry Brigadier, but we have to find out how they took you in. Do I leave myself a message of some kind?"

The Brigadier nodded.

"Yes, I understand, Doctor," he replied gravely. "But I-"

But before he could finish, he was interrupted by the Tenth Doctor, who leapt off the settee he was sat on, sprinting out of the living room. The rest of the group watched the scene in amazement, rooted to where they sat even after the Time Lord had 'fled'. The Captain Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart however then cried, "Where's he going?"

"Oh no," the Second Doctor realised in horror. "He's gone totally mad! He's leaving right now to see your parents, Brigadier!"

"After him!" the Brigadier shouted, before they all sped out of the room.


	11. The Departure END OF ACT ONE

_"The gate was open. And so the journey began, to that perilous, unknown universe in which the truth could be found. But if there was anybody capable of discovering it, then that man was the Doctor; both of him."_

_-"Ascendancy" by RSM John Benton_

**One Canada Square, Central London - Thursday 22nd April 2010 AD**

The Master had to admit; UNIT had been well prepared for him.

After his capture and subsequent lapse of consciousness, he'd found himself here in this sterile prison. It seemed that UNIT had got track of him well before his human hunting was brought to a tragic end. The Synapsian capture net, the tranquiliser dart guns and then this place, it all showed signs that they knew what they were dealing with. A terrible shame, as he desperately wanted to devour several of their grunts before they managed to put him down. And now he found himself in this accursed room.

It had been built to contain people like him (or certainly as he could be considered now); psionics; telepaths, telekinetics and of course, beings who were scintillating with artron energy after failed resurrections, naturally caused by their vengeful widows.

_Damn that woman._

Still the resurrection's failure had given him much superhuman power; incredible reflexes and strength, and the ability to frazzle anybody who got in his way with bolts of artron energy. But it was useless here. The room made him as powerless as any weak humanoid. He was trapped, at the mercy of his UNIT captors. Those wretched fools.

_Still_, the Master reflected to himself, _they have actually got lucky. They never built this room; it was those pathetic parasites at Torchwood. Yes, that abysmal organisation, which is now gone._

Suddenly there was a buzz of the intercom at the door, followed by: "Your visitor's here."

The heavy steel door opened, revealing the person he had been waiting for. The Doctor. The tenth incarnation of the Doctor.

He was flanked by two UNIT soldiers, their assault rifles raised towards him, still wary of the threat he posed. Barely seconds later though, they were gone, closing the door behind them, leaving the Doctor alone.

"You survived," he said. "I should have knew."

The Master smirked.

"Yes, you should have. You certainly should."

And he laughed.

**Several hours earlier…**

**Surrey, England**

The group were too late. By the time they arrived the TARDIS was already materialising, leaving them alone in its wake.

"That senile old fool!" shouted the Second Doctor. "He's left us! The stupid buffoon! How could _I_ ever be so reckless?"

"Aye," Jamie agreed. "Yah think he wouldn't be so sudden about it."

Staring at the empty space where the TARDIS had been, the Brigadier began to shudder in dread. What was that Doctor doing? Before he'd even had the chance to reply to his younger self, the Time Lord had bolted, abruptly leaving to a time when his 'parents' still lived.

_But what is he thinking?_ the Brigadier thought. _Why is he doing this to me? I have a right to speak to them, and yet he has prevented it. That damnable old bastard!_

"Why?"

The Second Doctor looked at him, curiosity written on his features.

"Why is he doing this?" he asked again, though with far more force behind his words.

"He's trying to protect you," the Time Lord replied. "Or at least, that's what he thinks he's doing."

"Trying to protect me?" came the Brigadier's outraged answer. "He believes I can't handle meeting my own parents?"

"Hearing what your parents say personally," the Second Doctor said, "could disturb you. But, this should have been discussed carefully. The fool!"

Then however, before any other word could be spoken, the air was pierced by the sounds of a materialising TARDIS. That wheezing and groaning noise, which was known well to the Brigadier. He shuddered again, fear gripping him.

"He's back," Doris commented in shock.

"My God," the Brigadier said in terror. "He knows. Now he knows the truth."

The TARDIS was soon fully materialised, solidifying into its form as a blue rectangular box; the guise of a twentieth century police box. The door opened, the Tenth Doctor exiting, as the watching group drew breath.

The moment had arrived; the moment where it could be potentially all revealed. The identity of Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart.

But it was not.

"Now I know what the Guardian meant," said the Tenth Doctor, his tone that of astonishment. "_Time may prevent you_. Well, it just has. Your past has been time locked, Alistair."

"What?" was the question fired back by the Brigadier.

"I'd tried travelling to Mombassa, this house… all different time periods. But I couldn't. There's a time lock in place, and it's preventing me from travelling to your past."

"Yah can't get the TARDIS there then?" asked Jamie.

"No, it seems not, Jamie," the Tenth Doctor answered.

"Time lock," the Brigadier whispered to himself, shocked at yet another twist in what had become a bizarre, but terrifying tale. And the implication was that he could never hear the truth from his parents lips. He could not meet them face to face, asking them who he truly was. But his dismay was soon replaced by another emotion… anger. The Doctor had still attempted to stop him speaking with them. Fleeing before he could have the opportunity to make his request; to see his parents one last time.

"Doctor," he said, utterly livid but managing to contain most of his present anger. "I wanted to speak to them. You couldn't anyway, but you still prevented me. I wanted to hear the truth from their lips, but y-you…. you stopped me. Why?"

Guilt, not for the first time in the day, infested the Tenth Doctor's mind once more. He realised he'd been wrong.

"I shouldn't have done it. Your right, Alistair," he agreed with sombre words. "I only wished to protect you, I-"

"I'm not a child, Doctor," the Brigadier replied, his harshness utterly clear. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"And I know that, Alistair," the Doctor answered, guilt still within him. "Which is why I was wrong. I should have let you come with me. I'm sorry. I truly am sorry, Alistair. You don't have to forgive me."

There was silence for a moment, until the Brigadier managed to answer his old friend's apology.

"No," Alistair disagreed, his anger subsiding, replaced with understanding for his old friend's intentions, "I do, Doctor. I wish you hadn't done it, but I do know you care for me. You only did it because you thought it was for the best. I realise now, Doctor."

The Tenth Doctor nodded.

"Alistair, thank you. Thank you so much."

There was silence again, lasting for nearly half a minute, until the Brigadier spoke once again.

"The question is though, Doctor," he said, "what do we do now?"

The Tenth Doctor briefly paused, before he turned his attention to Alistair's grandson, Gordon.

"So UNIT are measuring that breach then, Captain?" the time traveller asked, referring clearly to the rip in reality which still as ever remained in the former headquarters of the Torchwood Institute.

"We are, Doctor," Gordon answered. "But as I said…. its opened again."

"Yes," the Doctor replied, deep in thought. "And I told you lot that it was closed for good as well. Still, when did the breach open again?"

"Month ago," the Captain informed him. "Started off as an electromagnetic disturbance. Then the breach opened and spilled voidal radiation everywhere. So Colonel Oduya sent me there, as well as other soldiers and scientists. We tried contacting you, but we don't happen to know where Martha Jones is. You know, as she has that _superphone_ of yours."

"Martha?" asked the Tenth Doctor alarmed. "You don't know where she is?"

"It shouldn't be anything to worry about," the Captain reassured him. "She's gone freelance with Mickey Smith. Probably undercover and don't want to be found, if you ask me."

"She's with, Mickey?"

"Yeah," the Captain replied. "Married too."

The Tenth Doctor gaped.

"What? Her and Mickey…. married? But I thought she was engaged with-"

"-that Tom Milligan bloke? Yeah, she was. But he got jilted didn't he, the poor fellow. So yeah, Martha and Mickey; they're married."

The Doctor continued to gape.

"Well, that's certainly unexpected to say the least," he commented, before he burst out laughing. "I mean, the two of them? Wow."

"Mickey?" asked a puzzled Jamie. "Martha?"

"My future, Jamie," the Second Doctor said. "I wouldn't let it concern you."

"Anyway, the gap's getting bigger, Doctor," the Captain said, steering the conversation back onto its original course. "We've tried closing it, slowing its acceleration, anything; but it hasn't worked."

"Which is lucky," said the Brigadier suddenly. "As it leads to the universe where _I came from_."

The Tenth Doctor nodded.

"Yes, your right, Alistair," he agreed. "And that's why I've got to go there. To stop the paradox from ever forming, I have to go there."

"Along with me and my Doctor, of course," Jamie said.

"Yes. That's why the Guardian sent the two of you," the Tenth Doctor replied.

"But, there remains the issue of the Time Lords," the Second Doctor pointed out. "I'm still-"

"The Guardian would have foreseen and solved that problem," his future self said, dismissing the concern. "He's not omniscient, but he's close too it."

Captain Lethbridge-Stewart was about to ask the Doctor how it was possible for a being to actually _be close_ to omniscience, but he was never able to ask this question. Instead before he could speak, his grandfather spoke of something far more serious. Something, which Doris would totally abhor.

"And I'm coming with you, too," the Brigadier declared solemnly.

Stunned silence.

"What? No, Alistair you can't!" the Tenth Doctor said, utterly rejecting any consideration of the Brigadier accompanying them.

"It's too dangerous, Brigadier," the Second Doctor said, agreeing with his successor.

"We're talking about a different unknown universe. We have no I idea what could be possibly there."

"Piffle," came the Brigadier's angry response. "Utter piffle! The amount of dangers I've faced in my lifetime, and you call this _too_ dangerous. What total garbage."

"You don't know what's there, Alistair," the tenth incarnation of the Doctor protested.

"Nor do you," the Brig pointed out.

"You can't do this," said the Tenth Doctor. "I won't let you."

"Its my choice. I have a right to go."

"No. You don't!"

"Yes, I do. And there's nothing you can do to stop me, Doctor."

The Tenth Doctor turned to Doris, said: "Talk him out of this madness."

She complied, telling her husband: "Please, Alistair, don't do this. You can't leave."

The Brigadier sighed sadly, understanding why his wife was upset. She didn't want him to leave her, not to mention the countless risks involved in travelling to that other universe. But he knew he had to go.

_I must do this._

"Doris, I'm sorry. But, you can't change my mind," he told his wife. "I need to know the truth; find out who I really am. I have to meet my true parents… and understand who they are. I've got to go."

"Alistair-"

"It is my right, Doris," he interrupted. "I have to see them, and I will."

"Your still not going," the Tenth Doctor said strictly. "I refuse to take you."

"It is my right," the Brigadier repeated once again. "You can't deny it to me, Doctor. Besides, you need me. The dreams and feelings I now have can help you find them, stopping the paradox. Face it, Doctor. You need my help."

And with that the Tenth Doctor was defeated; recognising that his old friend was indeed right.

_I need him, and he does have a right to meet his real parents. Though surely I can't let him do this?_

But he had to.

The Tenth Doctor briefly looked at his younger self, who reluctantly nodded back, before he said: "Your right, Alistair. You may come."

"No!" cried Doris, disgusted at the outcome.

"Doris-" the Brigadier started to say, but he was instantly cut off by her.

"How can you do this? Risking your own life at your age? You can't leave me, Alistair! You can't!"

Alistair grimaced at his wife's protests, guilty at what he was going to do to her. Leaving her behind for god knows how long. But he had to leave. He needed to have closure. With this in mind, he approached her, then took her into a loving embrace. He had to make her understand why.

"I know how you must feel," he whispered. "And I wish I never had to leave. But I've got to, Doris. I must have my questions answered."

"Alistair," she said, beginning to cry.

"Oh, Doris. Please don't do that. I want you to understand. Please understand this, Doris. Please."

"Oh, Alistair."

"I love you, Doris. And I would never wish to see you hurt. Please understand me; you have to know why I'm doing this."

She wiped away her tears, then whispering back: "I understand, Alistair. I just don't want you to leave."

"I know, Doris," the Brigadier replied. "I know."

He kissed her, then released her from his arms, bringing his attention back to the watching Tenth Doctor.

"I hope you realise what you're doing, Alistair," the Time Lord warned. "It could take us years to track your parents down. You may die before you have the chance to ever come back. Do you still want this?"

The Brigadier, glanced briefly at his wife, before he replied:

"Yes, I do. And there's not a man alive who can stop me."

The Tenth Doctor gave a sad sigh.

"That settles it then."

"Not quite," said Gordon abruptly. "If granddad's going, then I'm going to!"

"Gordon!" the Brigadier cried. "You have your career to think about. Besides-"

"Fuck my career," the Captain answered, dismissing his grandfather's protests. "I've had those strange dreams too, granddad. I need closure just as much as you do."

"You know," said the Tenth Doctor, already conceding defeat, "I'd talk you out of this, Captain. However, this would of course be madness."

"You're saying I can come?" Captain Lethbridge-Stewart asked.

"Unfortunately, I am," the Time Lord replied grimly.

"But what about your mother, Gordon?" the Brigadier asked his grandson. "You're leaving her are you?"

"You're leaving her _too_ granddad," the Captain said.

The Brigadier sadly nodded.

"Your right in that regard, my lad," he acknowledged.

Silence took hold once more, with each member of the group considering what now lay in store for all of them. At last however, the Tenth Doctor spoke.

"I think we all need to go on a trip before this can all begin."

"What?" Doris asked. "Including me?"

"Yes, you too, Doris," came the answer.

"And where are we going to?" she questioned.

"To a place I know only too well," the Time Lord said. "Torchwood Tower."

**One Canada Square, Central London**

Before they could all leave, a certain issue needed solving.

The Doctor's second self had finally realised that his old scruffy coat was missing. On Cantolis, he had been grabbed by one of the accursed Weeping Angels, forcing his older self and Jamie to get him out of that particular pickle. The coat however had remained in the angel's clutches, and therefore was now vaporised upon the destruction of Cantolis.

The Second Doctor of course had been utterly outraged; livid that his coat was not only lost, but now no longer existed. What made it worse however, was that his sonic screwdriver had been among the near infinite amount items kept in his dimensionally transcendental pockets.

Fortunately however the problem was resolvable.

"Here have mine," the Tenth Doctor had said, tossing his own screwdriver to his past incarnation, as the two of them stood in the TARDIS wardrobe room. "Shame to let it go, but you certainly need one."

"You're giving me, your screwdriver?" the Second Doctor asked, as he put on a new scruffy black coat.

"Yeah. Makes a change from the useless antique you had, eh?" the Tenth Doctor cheekily said.

The Second Doctor just grumbled.

Giving up his old screwdriver to his second self, the Tenth Doctor knew he required a new screwdriver himself. Luckily he'd already begun work on a new one prior to his visit to the Ood Sphere; and with a few adjustments, the new screwdriver was fully functional. It differed greatly to its predecessor; it was larger, was clawed and possessed a green diode rather than its original blue. And unsurprisingly, it was considerably more advanced.

When all that was sorted, it was time to leave.

The two Doctors invited the rest of the group inside, and as expected, two of its members were completely astounded by what they saw.

Neither Doris or Gordon had ever been inside the Doctor's TARDIS before, and neither of them could comprehend how its dimensions were possible. Even after the stories Alistair had told them, they simply could not believe what they witnessed.

"Wow," Doris said, gaping at the console room. "This place is amazing."

"This surely can't be real?" said Gordon, utterly bamboozled. "I'd heard the stories, but this place… it's absolutely incredible. It really is bigger-"

"-on the inside?" the Tenth Doctor had finished for him. "Yes, your by no means the first person to point that out, Captain."

The Captain nodded, his eyes darting across the room. It was an astonishing experience, and also a brilliant one. He was actually in the Doctor's TARDIS.

_This is absolutely brilliant. It is._

Soon afterwards, the TARDIS dematerialised. Making its short journey to One Canada Square, tallest building in Britain, and once home to the Torchwood Institute.

The time vessel arrived in a dimly lit storage room; wooden crates piled on each other across the spacious area. The group of six left the TARDIS, staring out across the room they had landed in. Gordon and Doris were mesmerised, in awe upon losing their TARDIS flight virginity. The Brigadier on the other hand shrugged off the experience, having been on two previous _expeditions_ within the Time Lord's contraption, which seemingly denied the laws of physics.

The Tenth Doctor meanwhile felt somewhat ill. Torchwood Tower (or One Canada Square as it had been known by those ignorant of Torchwood's existence) brought back bad memories. It was here he had lost Rose.

"Doctor," the Brigadier said, noticing the paleness on his friend's face, as well as his brief grimace.

"Oh, it's nothing, Alistair," the Doctor replied, seeing the rest of the company chatting to each other, not paying any attention to what he spoke of. "Just memories I would rather forget."

"Yes," Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart realised, knowing what the time traveller was referring. "It was here you lost _her_, wasn't it?"

"It was," came the sad reply from the Time Lord.

"I know the two of you were close. I'm sorry that it happened to you, Doctor."

The Doctor paused, still sad but had begun to push tragic memories aside. He said: "It was terrible to lose her. Though, I did manage to meet her one more time… no twice," he corrected himself, pausing again, then saying: "I like to think I resolved things when I last met her…. But, I could never give what she truly desired. And truth be told, I'm not sure I possibly ever could."

"I'm sorry for you, Doctor," said the Brigadier, trying to comfort his old friend once again.

The Tenth Doctor returned a brief smile, still somewhat saddened.

"Thank you, Alistair. I should know that you would understand."

With that said, he grinned like a Cheshire cat. He then addressed everyone in the group, his voice pitched loud enough that a man near deaf would hear him.

"Right then! Now, here we are!" he said, an echo following his spoken words. "Torchwood Tower. Now tell me, Captain; whose in charge here?"

"Well… I am, Doctor. At least during the day shift. Which," he said examining his watch for a moment, "begins in just over an hour."

"In that case, we shouldn't have much problem getting round here then, Captain?" the Tenth Doctor said, voice quieter. "Oh, and by the way, I'd change the time on your watch. I landed the old girl half an hour into the future."

"What?" said the Captain, jerking back in surprise. "Were half an hour into the future? Wow. You really do travel in time don't you? Still, wish you'd told me beforehand."

"What I'm wondering is though," the Second Doctor pondered. "Who is currently in charge now, Captain?"

"Now? Well that'd be Magambo. Captain Erisa Magambo," Gordon answered.

"Magambo?" the Tenth Doctor questioned. "Oh, yes. I know _her_."

"Yeah," Gordon said, remembering the encounter the Time Lord was referring to. "Easter last year? That whole thing with the wormhole and those alien stingray creatures, wasn't it?"

"That's the one," the Doctor confirmed. "Anyway. Let's get her attention shall we now?" He pulled out his new sonic screwdriver. "Screwdriver should do it."

He briefly activated the device, holding it high above his head. Barely moments later the security alarm went off, making everybody aware of their presence within the base.

"You set… the alarm off?" the Brigadier questioned, very much frustrated at what the Doctor had done.

"Um, yeah," the Tenth Doctor answered, treating the Brigadier's question as if it was trivial. "Gets their attention nice and fast. Quite fun too, I may add."

"Doctor," the Brigadier said, still frustrated at the Time Lord. "You never cease to annoy me, do you?"

"Never," the eccentric alien agreed. "Though, I think you actually like being annoyed by me, Alistair."

Suddenly the double doors far in front of them opened, four UNIT soldiers running through.

"FREEZE!" shouted one of them, running towards the six intruders, Heckler & Koch G36C Carbine pointed at them. "Stay where you are, NOW!"

"It's alright, Sergeant," the Captain said, as the fireteam approached, slowing down. "It's only me."

"Captain?" the Sergeant replied, took aback by the Captain's sudden presence. "What? How did you get here?" He then recognised the Tenth Doctor. "My, God."

"Hallo there!" the Tenth Doctor said, grinning at the sergeant. "Recognise me, do you?"

"It's you. It's actually you."

"Yeah. Bit sudden isn't it? I considered giving you lot a call," he said, still grinning, "but you know, couldn't really get round to it, could I?"

"My, God."

"Yes, you've said that twice now. Not the first time I've been deified actually. Yes, I remember when-"

"And Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart?" the Sergeant cried again, seeing the Brigadier was present. "What? What's going on?"

"Don't forget my Doctor either," Jamie said, joining the conversation. "Or me too. Surely you UNIT lot remember the both of us?"

Eyeballs bulged, as the Sergeant became even more shocked. Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, two different Doctors and one of their companions (recognising them all from the UNIT files)? All in the same room at once? He didn't think he'd seen something as eventful in his entire life.

"Christ almighty," he said under his breath, before asking to anyone in the group before him: "What are you all doing here?"

"They're all here because of the breach, Hutchins," the Captain answered. "We need to see Magambo at once."

"Oh-oh… um, yes. Of course, Sir," Sergeant Hutchins replied, trying to regain composure. He activated his comm, said, "You're not going to believe this, Ma'am."

"What is it, Sergeant?" came the reply down from the other end; Captain Erisa Magambo of the nightshift.

"It's Captain Lethbridge-Stewart, Ma'am," Hutchins replied. "This is going to sound difficult to believe, but he's here with two different versions of the Doctor, one of their assistants and his granddad; Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. Oh, and his wife. The Brigadier that is."

"You must be joking."

"I'm not pulling your leg, Captain," Hutchins said. "They're actually all here."

"What? How did get they get inside Torchwood Tower?" was Magambo's alarmed answer.

"Isn't it obvious, Ma'am?" Sergeant Hutchins replied.

"Yes, that machine of the Doctor's," Magambo realised.

"They're here about the breach apparently."

Magambo briefly paused.

"Well get them to my office at once, Sergeant," she then ordered.

"Of course, Ma'am. Will do right away. Over and out." He disengaged the comm, then told Captain Lethbridge-Stewart, "Right this way, Sir."

The Captain nodded, then followed Hutchins and his troops, with the rest of the visiting group trailing close behind. They exited the storage room, turned right down a corridor.

"It's funny how you arrived with the Doctor now, Sir" Sgt Hutchins told the Captain, as he walked alongside him. "Amazing what's just happened."

"What do you mean, Sergeant?" Gordon asked, puzzled as to what Hutchins was implying to.

"It's the breach, Sir," Sgt Hutchins answered. "It's beginning to slow down."

"What?"

Captain Lethbridge-Stewart and Sgt Hutchins turned their heads, seeing the Tenth Doctor approach.

"Yeah," Hutchins said. "It's beginning to slow down. Funny how you happened to arrive now, as I said."

"Is there any reason for this?" the Doctor asked, greatly alarmed at the revelation.

"None we can find yet. We were hoping you could shed some light on the matter," the Sergeant explained.

The Tenth Doctor didn't answer, glancing for a moment at his past self, who he could tell was thinking the exact same thing as he was. The time lock, the breach opening, the breach slowing down…

_It is far more than coincidence._

**One Canada Square, Central London**

"Doctors," Magambo said, giving both variants of the Time Lord a salute. "It is an honour to meet with you again."

The visiting band (led seemingly by the Doctor's tenth incarnation) stood in Magambo's office; a small and rather bland room with no window, situated two levels below the 'Breach Room' (as it was known).

Captain Erisa Magambo was stood behind her desk. She was a black, small, somewhat plump woman in her early forties; clad in a dark UNIT officer's uniform, complete with skirt. To those who knew her she was a strict and by the book officer, but regarded with much respect by her comrades. She was intelligent, honest and would ultimately put the needs of her men before her own. Her abilities as an officer always surprised Captain Lethbridge-Stewart as to why she was not of a higher rank at her age. Indeed, despite being at the same rank, Gordon often felt inexperienced when they spoke. He certainly had much respect for her.

_Excellent soldier without doubt_, he thought to himself.

"Yes, nice to see you too, Captain," the Tenth Doctor said, answering Magambo's greeting.

"I haven't met you yet," the Second Doctor said, approaching Captain Magambo, extending a hand. "But it is certainly an honour to meet you, Captain."

"Very gracious of you, Doctor," she said, shaking the Time Lord's hand. Her attention however then came to the Brigadier.

"And then of course there's you, Brigadier." She saluted him. "It's an honour to see you again, Sir."

"As it is you, Captain," he said, remembering the last time he'd saw Magambo. "Still a captain I see after all these years I see. You know, I still have my contacts in the Ministry of Defence and Geneva. I could always-"

"No, it's fine, Sir," Magambo said, dismissing his offer. "I'd rather not ask for favours, if you don't mind, Sir."

"Well, if you insist," the Brigadier sighed.

"We better get started then," Captain Magambo said, then turning to Sgt Hutchins, told him: "Thank you for bring them here, Sergeant. You're dismissed."

"But Captain-"

"No buts, Sergeant. You're not privy to this conversation. _You're_ dismissed," Magambo told him.

The Sergeant grumbled, then left the office, closing the door behind him.

Magambo then turned her gaze to Doris. She started to speak, but Captain Lethbridge-Stewart cut her immediately off.

"_Erisa_," he warned her, anticipating what she was about to say.

"She's a civilian, Captain. I'm not even sure why you-"

"She has a right to be here," Gordon said sternly to her. "She's greatly involved in what's occurred."

"Greatly involved in what's occurred?" the Captain Magambo questioned. "And what exactly has occurred, Captain?"

"It will all be explained, _Captain_."

"Perhaps it would be best if I left the room," Doris said. "I realise-"

"Doris," the Brigadier suddenly said. "You're going nowhere." He then glared at Magambo, said, "I may be retired, Captain; but I still have considerable influence within UNIT. I respect you, but it would be best for you sake if Doris remains here unless I order it. Do I make myself clear, Captain?"

There was a shocked silence. Magambo realised she was beat.

"I apologise, Brigadier," she said, conceding victory to the former UNIT commander. "It's just, its merely unusual to have a civilian for this meeting, Sir."

"Yes. Well as my grandson told you; she's very much involved in matters," the Brigadier replied.

"You seem to be implying there is more to this than what's happened here at Torchwood Tower," Captain Magambo said, extremely curious of what was going on.

"I am," the Brigadier simply stated.

"I think, that perhaps me and my successor should explain," the Second Doctor said. "After all, you could say that this all began with the two of us."

"I see," Magambo said. "In that case-"

However before she could complete her answer, the phone rang at her desk.

"Just a moment," she told the watching group, before she picked up her phone, then answered it. "Captain Magambo here."

Nearly a minute later the call was over; the rest of her waiting company unable to make out the contents of the conversation, apart from the fact Magambo was clearly talking to somebody in authority. With the call done however, she put the receiver down, told them: "That was Lieutenant-Colonel Smithees."

"Colonel Smithees?" Gordon said. "What did he want?"

"Not necessarily want, Gordon," Magambo answered. "But to inform."

"And?"

"He and Colonel Oduya will soon be arriving at the base," she replied. "But that's not all." She turned to the two Doctors. "It seems an _old friend_ of ours will arrive not long after them. Someone I think the two of you know very well."

"Old friend?" Jamie said. "I do not like the way yah said that. Hardly sounds like he's much of a friend to me."

"Well he once was, Jamie," said the Tenth Doctor, realising the identity of the person to whom Magambo referred. He then asked her, "It's the Master. Isn't it?"

"Yes, Doctor. I'm afraid it is."

**One Canada Square, Central London**

"So you're telling us; that there's a paradox forming which threatens the universe, caused by the Brigadier never being born, which then leads you to be killed by the Cybermen in 1968? As well as that, the Brigadier is from a different universe, very probably a planet inhabited by giant worms and strange blue eyed men? And that this universe is accessible through the breach here at Torchwood Tower?"

"Yes, that's pretty much correct," the Tenth Doctor said, answering Oduya's question. "Except, you know, it's the entire multiverse which happens to be under threat, not just ours, Colonel," he added, somewhat in jest.

Colonel Augustus Oduya sighed.

"You realise, Doctor," he said. "That if it was anybody but you telling me this, that-"

"-you'd have them locked up in the nearest psychiatric hospital? Yes, I know, Colonel. Still, I'm not exactly quite like anyone else on this planet, am I?"

"No, Doctor," Oduya agreed almost heartily. "You most certainly are not."

There were nine of them in the conference room. Jamie McCrimmon, Captain Magambo, Gordon, Doris, the two incarnations of the Doctor, the Brigadier and the two recently arrived senior UNIT officers; Colonel Augustus Oduya and his second, Lieutenant-Colonel John Smithees. Oduya apparently had replaced Colonel Alan Mace (who the Tenth Doctor had met during the whole ATMOS affair) as British UNIT's commanding officer, a role which had once been possessed by the Brigadier himself. He was black, medium in height, quite stocky and was barely older than Captain Magambo. Smithees on the other hand was taller, possessing a chiselled face and dark brown hair underneath his officer's cap.

After the two officers had arrived via helicopter, Magambo had led them all to the conference room; a place which while not large, was certainly spacious to contain the group, not to mention had an excellent view of the capital. And within the room the two Doctors had told two senior UNIT officers (as well as Magambo) all they needed to know.

"It's true, Colonel," said the Brigadier sadly. "It does not please me to say it, but everything the two Doctors have told you is true."

"In that case, I'm deeply sorry for you, Sir," Oduya replied, deeply sympathetic towards the former soldier. "I can't imagine how terrible it must be for you."

"Yes, I don't think I've felt as sad in all my years as I did when I discovered what you've now learned," the Brigadier said. "But I'm determined to find the truth, Colonel. At all costs."

Oduya nodded.

"Of course. In which case, you want access through the breach then?" he asked.

"Yes," the Tenth Doctor said. "It's the only way we can reach that other universe."

"I'm just a little confused on one point," said Lieutenant-Colonel Smithees suddenly. "This other universe? It isn't the same as the one where the Cybermen came through three years ago, is it?"

"I don't think so-" the Tenth Doctor began, but the Brigadier, whose answer was of much more certainty, cut him off.

"No. It is another one, Colonel. Of that I'm sure."

"If you don't mind me saying, Sir; why is that?" Smithees asked.

"Being honest, Colonel, I'm not sure myself. There are some things… I just know for certain now. I know the breach isn't malevolent. I know that I'm not from this universe. And I know the universe I am from is not of the parallel Cybermen. But how? That I do not know."

"I suspect it's prescience, Alistair," the Tenth Doctor said, raising his suspicions. "Both you and Gordon seem to have a degree of it within you. Rare ability in humans… but you certainly have the symptoms of it."

"How much time do we have before the paradox is formed?" Oduya then asked.

The Tenth Doctor shrugged.

"The Guardian never said. We might have a few years though, as I imagine an event such this would have been foreseen awhile advance by such prescient beings as the Ood and the Guardians."

"I'm from the future, yes," Alistair said, revealing the premonitions which formed within his mind. "Not long. Perhaps two or three years."

"But I thought you said you were from a different planet?" Smithees asked. "If you're from 2012 or 2013 then you can't be. Us….. I mean humans would haven't got past the moon by then."

"Ah. It may be 2010 here, Colonel. But not there. It's evolution, Colonel," the Brigadier said calling upon his premonitions once again.

"Evolution?"

"_I see_," the Second Doctor said in realisation. "Fascinating. Accelerated evolution."

"Just by a fraction," the Tenth Doctor added. "Barely noticeable across millions upon millions of years since the primordial soup. But it's possible that 2010 here on your Earth, would be 20,000 AD in Alistair's. As my predecessor said; fascinating."

There was a pause in the meeting, with each person sat in the conference room reflecting upon what they had heard. And each of them knew what must be done.

"If you want access to the breach, Doctors," Oduya said, breaking the silence. "Then you may have it." His attention fell to Gordon. "Captain, I'm granting you leave from this moment. Indefinite leave until you return."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Now, I think I must be going," said Colonel Oduya, standing up, ready to leave. "The Master should be arriving any minute now, not to mention I will need to get in touch with Geneva. Smithees," directing his words at the senior officer, "sort out anything the two Doctors require. And Brigadier," he said turning to the old, yet youthful man, "I must say once more, how sorry I am for you."

Upon that he swiftly left; exiting the conference room, then joined by two UNIT troops, who accompanied him down the corridor. And with Oduya gone the attention quickly fell upon the younger, less experienced of the two senior officers; Lieutenant-Colonel John Smithees.

"So Doctors," he said, acting upon Oduya's orders. "What can I do for the both of you?"

"Well Colonel, I'd like to take a look at the breach, if you don't mind," the Second Doctor said.

"So would I," the Tenth Doctor then said. "By the way, that scientific advisor you have now…. um, Malcolm isn't it? Is he here?"

"I'm afraid Dr Taylor is currently stranded in Boston, Massachusetts, Doctor," Captain Magambo answered. "The volcanic eruption in Iceland is causing severe disruptions in commercial air travel. Dr Taylor simply hasn't been able to get a flight."

"Shame. Quite a genius Malcolm is as well, if not a bit… you know, _odd_. Then again, I can't really talk in that regard can I? Still, anyway," the Doctor said, turning the conversation back to the breach. "Um, Colonel?"

"Yes?"

"You mentioned that the breach's growth is decelerating. But when exactly will the growth come to a stop? Tomorrow? Next week? Next month even?"

"Today," Colonel Smithees replied. "Fitzgerald has given an estimate of seven o'clock this evening."

There was a temporarily silence. The Tenth Doctor realising what should be done. It would have to be done tonight.

"Then we leave today."

"Yes," the Second Doctor agreed.

"Today? You're leaving today?" Doris asked in horror.

_No. I can't lose Alistair so soon. I can't._

"I'm sorry, Doris," the Second Doctor said, trying to comfort her. "But my successor is correct. We have to go tonight."

"Why?" Doris demanded, fury in her words. It could not be tonight.

"Why not?" the Tenth Doctor questioned her, his forcefulness apparent. "We simply don't have time to tarry."

"But you said it could take years before that paradox is created!"

"True. But were going to a parallel universe, essentially blind to what we may encounter there. We are barely going on anything other than the dreams of Alistair and Gordon. Doris, it would be a miracle if we can find your husband's parents in time. We can't delay!"

"Please-"

"_Doris_," the Brigadier then said, interrupting his wife. "He's right."

"Alistair-"

"We leave tonight. I'm sorry Doris, but we must leave as soon we've got chance."

Doris sniffed, shedding a tear. She was distraught, but she managed to contain her emotions, at that moment accepting her husband's decision.

"I…. I accept, Alistair. Do what you think is right."

"But Doctors, why are we exactly going tonight?" Jamie suddenly asked, puzzled. "I mean, I know that breach is gonna' stop growing then; but how are these wee things connected?"

"Well, Jamie," the Second Doctor begun to answer. "Me and my future self have yet to take a look at that breach. But it stands to reason that when the breach is at its maximum, it will be large enough to admit the TARDIS."

"But, why's that, Doctor?" Jamie asked, still quite puzzled.

"Because there's far more too the paradox than there seems," the Tenth Doctor said. "There have been quite a few strange, unexplainable events recently. Why has Alistair's past become time locked? What caused the breach to open? And why has it stopped growing now? And I have a rather funny feeling that there's intelligence behind it."

"There is, Doctor," the Brigadier verified, through the vision which had just appeared in his mind. "Yes. There definitely is."

"Then that's as we both suspected," the Second Doctor said, turning to his future self. "There's another powerful force involved. But what, or whom?"

"The White Guardian?" Jamie suggested.

"No," the Tenth Doctor said. "Too much interference for a Guardian."

"Well whatever this thing is," Gordon said, "it does look to be on our side."

"Yes. But for what reason exactly?" the Second Doctor wondered.

"Nevertheless, we must leave tonight," the Tenth Doctor said. "We cannot afford to delay."

"In that case then," said the Brigadier, "I'm going to have to visit Sarah. I must see my daughter before I leave. She has to know why."

"I'm coming with you," Gordon said. "I have to see mum before we go. I have to."

The Brigadier nodded.

_Sarah has to know. She must realise why we're doing this_, the Brigadier thought.

He turned to Smithees.

"We came here by the Doctor's TARDIS, so I don't have any transport, Lieutenant-Colonel," Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart told the UNIT officer. "You wouldn't mind lending me and Gordon a vehicle, would you?"

"Have a word with Sgt Bramley in the foyer," Smithees answered. "He'll sort you out with something."

"Thank you, Colonel," the Brigadier said, getting up out of his seat, Gordon following. "Now, I think the two of us will be going."

"You're leaving?" Doris asked, displeased. "Alistair let me-"

"No. Sorry, Doris. But it would better for Gordon and I if we went alone," her husband replied. "We'll be back in a few hours."

"Take care, Alistair," the Tenth Doctor said, wishing his old friend farewell.

"You too, Doctor," the Brigadier replied, turning his gaze then to the Second Doctor, said, "The both of you."

"Aye, see you later," Jamie said, as the Brigadier and his grandson left the conference room, making their way to the nearest elevator, down to the foyer of One Canada Square.

"Now what am I to do?" Doris said in dismay. "Alistair's left me, and with only eight hours before he leaves. I-I m-might never see him again." A tear fell from her eye.

"Doris," Captain Magambo said, leaning towards the grieving woman. "If you need someone to talk to-"

"No, it's fine."

"Please," Magambo told her. "Look, I knew I was rude to you earlier…. but, I want to help you. Let me talk to you, Doris. I could give you a guided tour of the base. Most of Torchwood's equipment was removed after the Battle of Canary Wharf, but there's still some interesting stuff around. Just please, let me help you, Doris."

Doris wiped her eyes, then internally conceding to Magambo's pleas. Perhaps talking to her would help.

"Very well. Show me around, Captain."

The two women got up, then swiftly left the room.

As the door shut, Smithees shifted in his seat, before asking the two Doctors:

"Anything else, I can do for the both of you?"

"Yes, there-" the Tenth Doctor began.

"What about me?" Jamie demanded. "Been forgotten about as usual, eh?"

"I apologise," Colonel Smithees said. "What can I do for you, Mr McCrimmon?"

"Sleep that's what," Jamie immediately replied. "I can't remember the last time I've had some rest. For the past few hours, I've been chased by living statues, got told the Brigadier's from another universe, then got dragged to this place. I need to have some bloody rest."

"You want to have a bed to lie down on?" Smithees asked.

"Aye."

"You know," the Second Doctor started to say. "I have a very strong feeling you're wasting your time. This isn't a hotel, Jamie."

"Actually there is somewhere, Doctor," Smithees said, before his attention went back to the Highlander. "I'll take you there in a moment."

"Aye, that would be good."

"Now then," Smithees said, focusing on the two Doctors once more. "Is there actually anything else you may need?"

"There is, Colonel," the Tenth Doctor confirmed. "After we've had a look at the breach, then I would like to a pay visit to an old acquaintance of mine."

"The Master," Smithees said, nodding. "Yes. I'll get something arranged, Doctor."

**One Canada Square, Central London**

"You wish for my help?" the Master sneered at him. "You need me even with your bumbling past self assisting you? Ha! Ha! How _impotent_ you are, Doctor."

The Tenth Doctor sat opposite to his former schoolmate, a table between them both. He leaned forward slightly, then asked: "Do you have any wish for the Daleks to unleash an eternal hell upon us all?"

"You are not answering the question, Doctor," the Master obnoxiously replied, before once again laughing to himself.

_This failed resurrection has made even more insane than he's ever been_, the Doctor thought.

It had been nearly half an hour since the Doctor had set foot in the room; having just finished his examinations of the breach along with his second self. And it was as the both of them had believed; when the breach stopped growing, it would be large enough to admit the TARDIS. There was clearly something behind this, and the revelation both fascinated and disturbed the two incarnations of _themselves_.

And now it seemed the Tenth Doctor now had his answer to what that something may be.

He shuddered at the thought; knowing the implications if that thing really existed. That being of Gallifreyan myth.

And the Master had told him of this entity within the very room he now sat in.

_The Kwisatz Haderach._

Learning of that thing had all begun when the Doctor had entered the room. His past incarnation remaining at the breach; attempting to find a way to siphon off much of the voidal radiation, keeping the breach open without too much adverse effect. He inquired whether he could see the Master of course, but his current self recommended against it. He had to see him alone, first.

The Tenth Doctor told the deranged Time Lord, sole other survivor of their race, everything he knew of the cosmic predicament, which threatened to destroy them all. And as the Doctor had suspected…. the Master found it all sheer hilarity.

"_The Brigadier_?" he'd jeered, unable to contain how absurdly ironic he'd found that revelation. "_The Brigadier_? That narrow minded basket case? He's prescient, from another universe and is the cause of the paradox? Doctor, Doctor. Ha! Ha! Ha! Never I heard something of such delicious irony."

"Still," the Doctor said, preparing his response, "he always managed to exploit your weak chin, didn't he? Not to mention you've a pretty terrible record on Earth. Autons, Sea Devils, Azal; all those petty alliances you made. Didn't really trouble UNIT much, eh?"

"You know very well, Doctor," the Master had said, getting slightly annoyed at his old enemy's provocation. "This planet has only ever survived because of your accursed interference. Now, you will say no more until I eat!"

"No," came the Doctor's intense reply. "You will eat not a morsel until we have finished. You will hear me out, or I'll just tell Colonel Oduya to starve you to death. Do you understand, amigo?"

The Master reluctantly complied, though desperate for the conversation to end so he could eat. The _hunger_ so overwhelmed him. But upon hearing that the Brigadier and his grandson heard _the drums_, his demeanour vastly changed. It was true; his dreams were real.

"They hear them too?" the Master asked, utterly shocked. "They hear the call?"

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed. "And there was me thinking they were just symptoms of your insanity. Perhaps you less mad than I thought."

"They're real!" the Master cried in total delight. "They're real! And do you why this is sooooo good, Doctor? Because I'm finally going to win."

And he told the Doctor all what he had recently learnt; the voices which had told him of the Kwisatz Haderach, and along with him Kralizec, the Typhoon Struggle. War would come, the likes of which had never been in the cosmos; the Great Time Wars a tea party by comparison.

The Tenth Doctor's reaction was obvious. Shock, then scintillating fear. The Kwisatz Haderach, Kralizec predated Rassilon himself; and legends of them could be found all across the universe in some form or 'nother. Allegedly just memes like the tales of Psyche. But if the Master was right, then they would one day come into being.

"No," the Doctor had said, terrified, denying futilely what he'd heard. "Kralizec it cannot happen."

"Yes, Doctor. It will," the Master said, grinning in his psychopathic evil. "But do not worry. With the Kwisatz Haderach we shall win it; and I will rule all."

"Your mad," the Doctor exclaimed. "Your complete and utterly mad. That thing cannot be used!"

No, it certainly couldn't. And the Doctor had soon realised horror what the Kwisatz Haderach was. It was the intelligence behind the time lock. And it was responsible also for the behaviour of the breach. Clearly by preventing the paradox…. it would come into existence.

_But how? Is it the events during the Daleks' genesis? Is it because of something I will do? What can it be what brings that thing into reality?_ the Doctor had questioned within his head.

But nonetheless, whether it resulted in the creation of the Kwisatz Haderach or not; the paradox had to be prevented.

And so the Doctor now found himself requesting help from a madman.

"Whether I'm impotent or not is of no concern," the Doctor said, replying to the Master's accusations. "All what matters is the Mulitiverse. Nobody will be safe from the Daleks if this paradox occurs. Not even you."

"You try and appeal to my sense of self preservation? Interesting." the Master said, highly intrigued. "You know me well, Doctor. But what use can a poor starved lunatic be to you? You call me insane after all, dear Doctor."

"Well for a start of; you're a genius."

"You flatter me, Doctor," the Master said, a devilish grin forming on his features.

"You also seem to possess prescient knowledge of events," the Doctor continued, outlining his reasoning. "Why or how you are, I do not know. But your more useful to me and the others, than you are rotting in some UNIT prison cell."

"Especially as I'd just escape anyway," the Master pointed out. "Those fools couldn't contain me for long the last time they incarcerated me; they would barely do better again."

"Oh, no you wouldn't escape this time," the Doctor said. "UNIT could quite easily imprison you now. You have a far greater chance of freedom by joining me, than you would with UNIT."

"So you plan on letting me go? You think I'm going to be a good boy once this all over?" the Master snidely asked.

"No. But let's be honest here; you are nothing in comparison to the Dalek Empire. Freedom however is not all I offer you. With me and my second self, we can find a way to cure your present condition."

"I've already figured out a way."

The Doctor realising what the Master implied, shook his head.

"Never again. What you did to Tremas was horrific, even by your standards. Never again."

There was a pause, the Master considering what the Doctor offered him. Eventually he said:

"So you offer me freedom, a way to restore my metabolism and to never see the Daleks bring eternal torment upon us all? And in return you wish for my help?"

"That's my offer. And it's the best your going to get."

"Very well," the Master replied, deciding his answer. "Take me with you then, Doctor. Let us travel to this universe of the Brigadier's. But I should warn you, my dear Doctor. You will not prevent Kralizec."

"No. The Kwisatz Haderach shall be stopped. Kralizec will never happen."

The Master chuckled.

"It will, Doctor. It will."

**The M25 (London Orbital) Motorway, just outside Slough**

"There are some things I haven't told you, Gordon," the Brigadier said, sat in the front passenger seat of the UNIT Land Rover.

The Captain turned, looked at his grandfather, fearful yet curious of what he spoke of.

They were stuck in a traffic jam, which was hardly a rare occurrence on the M25. Traffic inching slowly forward every thirty seconds or so. The cause apparently a crash just past Junction 16 according to BBC Radio 2 Traffic and Travel.

It was approaching half one in the afternoon, but the two men had yet to arrive at Sarah's house in the outskirts of High Wycombe. Indeed, they had so far spent most of their time collecting various belongings from their own residences. It was going to be a long trip, and thus had stashed as much as they could within the land rover.

And the Brigadier of course, remembered to bring one very special item. His very old, but trusted, Webley Service Revolver.

"That old thing?" Gordon had questioned. "Wouldn't you prefer something newer, granddad? Like a SIG P226? Or-"

"Gordon," the Brigadier said. "I think I'll remind you that it was this gun which killed an apocalyptic demon. It will serve me fine, thank you."

But now, as the 4x4 moved briefly forwards, his thoughts were now once again to his dreams.

"What haven't you told me?" the Captain asked, wondering as to what his grandfather meant. And what it was did not seem to be good.

"Last night, I had dreams, Gordon," the Brigadier told him. "New dreams."

"New dreams?" Captain Lethbridge-Stewart exclaimed. "What new dreams?"

The Brigadier sighed.

"The Water of Life."

"Excuse me?" Gordon asked, rather puzzled.

"I dreamt of the Water of Life."

"But, what is this Water of Life?" Gordon asked.

"A drug," the Brigadier answered. "In actual fact poison extracted from a stunted worm from the planet which haunts me. The poison needs to be converted, its molecular structure altered by intense mental control. Otherwise it shall bring death."

"Then why take it? Surely it must have extraordinary benefits if it's so risky?" the Captain mused, as he edged the land rover forwards again.

"Oh, it does," the Brigadier replied knowingly. "It uplifts one's consciousness to a higher plane of awareness." He paused, then said: "And if I take this drug, then all my questions shall be answered. But at a cost."

"At a cost?"

"If I take the Water of Life….. I fear will no longer be myself."

He shuddered.

"I fear I will become something else entirely."

**One Canada Square, Central London **

Over the last few hours, much had happened at Torchwood Tower.

The Tenth Doctor had revealed the contents of his conversation to both Smithees and Oduya, requesting that the Master be placed in his custody. Oduya agreed.

"The fact you plan on eventually letting him go hardly pleases me," the Colonel had said. "But, if you believe he is of importance to during your mission, then you are free to have him, Doctor."

"Thank you, Colonel," the Doctor had replied graciously. "I don't expect him to turn over a new leaf after this all over; but it's better he's made use of than to spend the rest of his days locked up in some prison of yours."

The Tenth Doctor had also naturally informed his predecessor of what had occurred during his meeting with the Master. He'd found him still in the breach room, at work with Dr Patrick Fitzgerald, the physicist who was responsible for scientific affairs at the former Torchwood base. The two of them stood over a computer.

"Well, hello there," the Second Doctor had greeted his future incarnation. "You'll be pleased to know that me and Dr Fitzgerald have finally succeeded. We've found a way in which the voidal radiation can be siphoned off on a constant permanent basis." He then stopped, seeing the grave look on his successor's face. "But it seems you're not pleased. The Master knows something, doesn't he?"

"It seems he does," the Tenth Doctor confirmed. He turned to Fitzgerald. "Um, Patrick. You wouldn't giving me and myself a bit of privacy, would you?"

"Oh, of course not," the Irishman replied. "I could do with a cuppa anyway. See you later, the both of you."

And with that said, he walked away, passing several other UNIT scientists before he left the room.

"Now then, what do you have to tell me?" the Second Doctor asked.

And the Tenth Doctor explained.

"Oh crumbs," was the Second Doctor's reaction, recalling the Kralizec tales. "The Kwisatz Haderach?"

"Yes. And it looks like the Master's right," the Tenth Doctor said. "It explains the breach, and it explains the time lock on Alistair's past. It looks like we've got another problem on our hands."

"Most reluctantly, I have to agree with you," said the Second Doctor with a shudder. "So that thing does exist. And it's clearly helping us so it can remain in existence."

"It needs us to survive the Cyberman invasion of 1968," the Tenth Doctor stated. "The question is how do we bring it into existence?"

"Furthermore, why couldn't the White Guardian foresee this?" the Second Doctor wondered.

"He foresaw the effects, but he could not perceive the cause," the Tenth Doctor replied. "Even the Guardians don't know everything."

"Yes. Still, there is the _small_ matter of the paradox to solve first," said the Second Doctor. "And do you really think it's good idea taking the Master-"

"We know he's of use," the Tenth Doctor argued. "Besides, he can be easily contained. Getting the temporal grace back on will neutralise his new found abilities. Plus, there's rather nice cell waiting for him the bowels of the TARDIS."

"Well, if you insist then," the Second Doctor conceded.

After that, the two of them (along with Fitzgerald) soon managed to siphon off practically all voidal radiation being leaked from the breach; sending the dangerous particles back into the nothingness of the Void which lay between all universes. They then materialised into the breach room; the craft set ready to leave. And the time to leave was soon upon them.

"Um, Doctors," Colonel Smithees said, entering the breach room. "The Brigadier and Captain Lethbridge-Stewart have just arrived back. Magambo and the Colonel are escorting them upstairs right now."

"I see, Colonel," the Second Doctor noted. "Where exactly are Doris and Jamie right now then?"

"A waiting room two floors down, Doctor," Smithees replied. "Everyone important will soon be in this room." He checked his watch. "And it seems they won't be here too long either. You're leaving in just over twenty minutes."

"Yes," the Tenth Doctor said. "Then onto that unknown universe. The journey will around two hours… but we'll soon be there."

"Two hours?" Smithees inquired. "But when the Cybermen invaded from that _other_ parallel universe, it took them a few seconds."

"Ah, yes. Well Alistair's universe is further away, at least according to the readings you've been getting of the breach," the Tenth Doctor answered, pointing to the computers behind him. "Pete's universe is stacked side by to our own you could say. Alistair's is a few universes down in the chain. Besides, we'll technically be there quicker than the Cybermen got here, anyway. They'd been trying to break in for months, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Lieutenant-Colonel Smithees replied. "The country being haunted by _'ghosts'_ for several months isn't something you forget easily, Doctor."

He checked his watch again.

"Anyway, I better be going- Oh, and by the way. We'll be bringing the Master in after everyone else has arrived. Colonel Oduya thought it would be best if you had some time alone first."

"An excellent consideration," the Tenth Doctor replied. "The Master doesn't tend to change the mood for the better."

Smithees nodded, said, "I'll be seeing the two of you in a few minutes." He then left.

There was silence for a short while, until the Second Doctor spoke.

"I sincerely hope your Guardian has managed to hide my absence from the Time Lords," he said. "I have no wish to find my exile has been brought forward when this is all over."

"Oh don't worry," the Tenth Doctor replied with a grin. "He'll have it all sorted. Have a bit of faith would you?"

"I can't say I have much faith that my sanity will remain intact after spending several years with you," the Second Doctor retorted.

"And I can't say I have much faith you won't bore me to death before this all over," the Tenth Doctor retorted himself.

There was silence again, until the Tenth Doctor said.

"Actually I take it back. You're brilliant. Absolutely, incredibly, fantastically, wonderfully brilliant."

"Yes, and I have to admit; you're actually not so bad yourself."

"Thank you."

"But I still prefer my fifth self to you. At least from the little of what I saw him."

The Tenth Doctor frowned, but the frown soon turned into a smile.

"As I said. _You're brilliant_."

"Doctors," said Colonel Smithees, who'd just come back into the room. "They're here now."

And with that said, they did indeed come in. Doris, Gordon, Alistair and Jamie. Followed by Magambo, Colonel Oduya, several scientists (including Fitzgerald) and over two dozen UNIT troops. The scientists and troops however eventually stopped a distance away from them, except four soldiers carrying two crates full of (annoyingly for the Doctors) guns and ammunition.

"Guns!" the Second Doctor exclaimed, his disapproval evident.

"Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart," the Tenth Doctor cursed under his breath. "That complete and utter pillock."

"Hello both of you," the Brigadier said, holding two suitcases, as he and the group approached the two Doctors. "As you can see, we've got some luggage for you."

"And remind again, Alistair," the Tenth Doctor said in scorn. "When did I specify that you could bring _guns_ aboard my TARDIS? Other than the odd antique left around somewhere, this TT capsule is an explicit firearms free zone. Yet, you're bringing enough guns to equip a small army. What on earth are you thinking of, Lethbridge-Stewart?"

"I'm being sensible," the Brigadier calmly replied. "As you kept reminding me, Doctor. We're travelling to an unknown universe, and we have no idea of what we'll encounter there. It's best that we are prepared, Doctor."

The Doctor sighed, reluctantly giving in to his old friend.

"Fine. Have your guns." He turned to the four soldiers who held the crates. "You lot. Follow me."

He led them to the TARDIS, opening the door, telling them: "Don't gawp. Unless you want to have a broken foot."

Predictably however they gawped upon seeing the console room. One of them stumbled, but managed to keep his crate aloft. The Doctor sighed, then led them out after they had placed down the crates. He shut the door, but kept it unlock, ready for when the group of five would leave.

"Did um, everything go okay with Sarah, Brigadier?" the Second Doctor asked, as his future self made his way back to the group.

The Brigadier grimaced.

"She wasn't exactly pleased as you can imagine."

"No," the Captain agreed, nodding. "Mum certainly wasn't."

"But she did manage to understand why were doing this," the Brigadier said, trying to comfort himself, though the expression on his face said otherwise. "And that I had to meet _them_."

"Your real parents. Yes. Well I promise you, Alistair," the Tenth Doctor told his old friend. "We will."

"We have to," the Second Doctor said. "If we don't, then it will be the end for all of us."

"Still, even so," Gordon said, face grave. "It was terrible doing that to Mum. I'm not sure I've ever felt as guilty as I did then."

"Well, I can tell you, Gordon," the Brigadier said. "The feeling is certainly mutual."

"I just hope both of you know what you're doing," Doris told the two of them in dismay.

"I do, Doris," the Brigadier answered, knowing for certain what he told her was the truth. "I do."

"Me too," Gordon said.

Silence fell, lasting for what seemed to be a time. The Brigadier wondering to himself the potential implications of what he was about to do; wondering how this would affect his friends and family. Doris and Sarah hated it, but they accepted his decision, knowing they could not possibly persuade him to reconsider. He knew what he had to do.

_But I will see them again. I vow that I will._

"Excuse me, Sir," Magambo said, approaching Colonel Oduya. "But they're ready to bring him in now."

"Very well," Colonel Oduya replied. "Send that lunatic in then."

Moments later, the Master entered the breach room. Trudged down the long white walled room, restrained in a straightjacket and chains made of dwarf star alloy. Four UNIT soldiers accompanied him, guns raised at the deranged Time Lord.

"No one knows what it's like," he sung to himself, eyes staring out at nothing, as he grinned like the insane madman he was. "To be the bad man. To be the sad man. Behind blue eyes."

_Behind Blue Eyes_, the Brigadier recalled to himself. _He's singing the Who. And somehow its strangely disturbing. I thought he was hardly all there in the head before, but this incarnation seems to have completely lost it._

The Second Doctor shared his old friend's feelings.

_He's gone utterly mad._

As he approached, the Master turned his gaze to the Doctor's second incarnation, his grin growing wider.

"How very pleasant to see you again, Doctor," he said. "It's very… how do I put it? Nostalgic to see you here."

"Your presence as ever hardly enthrals me," the Second Doctor replied, utterly unimpressed by his old colleague from the Academy. "The resurrection though seems to have made you even more tiresome."

The Master laughed.

"Well, yes, dear Doctor. I can't say I have the charm like I used to back in the good old days. More like some rabid dog now, eh? Still, I have a certain widow to thank for that." His eyes then fell upon Jamie. "And this must be that companion I heard you had. That dim-witted highlander, isn't it?" he asked the Second Doctor.

"You'll watch who you call dim-witted, if yah know what's good for yah!" Jamie spat back.

"Whoa. Now that was hardly very polite of you, McCrimmon. Then again your just some dumb brute who-"

"Perhaps you should be going inside," the Tenth Doctor cut him off. "Nobody's in the mood for your insults."

"Oh, c'mon Doctor!" the Master cried. "I'm having such a wonderful time. Now then." His gaze came to the Brigadier. "You! The man himself! The one whose prescience has emerged from its dormant slumber! The one at the centre of a paradox that is going to destroy absolutely everything! And most importantly, you hear the drums! _My_ drums! Too think I thought you were just some insignificant simpleton! It's Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart!"

"Your pathetic," said the Brigadier.

"Ha! Ha! And only I was trying to be friendly as well. But tell me, Brigadier. What is it like to hear the drums?"

"What is it like to be insane as you are?" questioned the Captain, answering instead of his grandfather, parodying the Master's question.

"So you're his grandson," the Master said, his eyes curiously studying the young man. "He seems to have inherited all your disgusting vile genes, Brigadier. Talk about lack of respect."

"You don't deserve his respect," the Brigadier told him.

The Master ignored him, his gaze finally falling upon Doris.

"And you must be his wife!" he shouted, a fiendish look in his eyes. "Perhaps I should formally introduce myself. I am generally known as the Master. Though, you may have known me as Harold Saxon; the man who had the honour of murdering the President of the United States. Live, in front of millions of people too! Now that's what you call shocking television! Much better than those reality TV shows you apes have. To think you call that nonsense astonishing, honestly. I gave you real entertainment! ME!"

Doris turned to Colonel Oduya, then said:

"Please. Just take him away."

Oduya complied, raising a gesture to the four soldiers accompanying the Master. The began to drag him away.

"No!" he protested, struggling against them. "I haven't finished yet you fools! Doris. Doris. Do you realise your husband may die? Pretty old now isn't he? Might have a stroke soon."

"Enough," the Tenth Doctor told him, grabbing him by his straightjacket, helping the soldiers get him into the TARDIS. "Nobody needs this right now."

"You can prevent the paradox! But you cannot prevent Kralizec! Kralizec shall come!"

They shepherded him inside the TARDIS, the door slamming behind them. Several minutes later the door opened, all of them back apart from a certain deranged Time Lord.

"We've locked him up in his cell," the Tenth Doctor explained. "He won't be bothering us for awhile now."

"Doctor," the Brigadier began, "what did he mean by Kralizec?"

"I'll explain later, Alistair," the Tenth Doctor replied.

"Doctors!" called Fitzgerald, standing behind his desk, far behind the main group. "The breach has nearly reached its maximum!"

"Well, we better be off then," the Tenth Doctor reflected to himself, before he told the nine people in front of him: "I'm afraid this is now the time to say goodbye."

"Oh, God!" Doris cursed to herself. "Why did this all have to happen so soon?"

"I don't think there's answer to that, Doris," the Second Doctor replied. "It's just the way the universe is."

_There's truth too that_, the Captain agreed to himself.

"In that case, Doctor," Oduya began, speaking to the Doctor's tenth self, "goodbye to you then." He then turned to his attention to the other members of the leaving group. "And to the rest of you, too. It is essential you succeed. Good luck to you all."

"Thank you, Colonel," the Brigadier replied. "Let's hope your still around here when I get back. UNIT needs men like you," he added, extending his hand, which the Colonel shook.

"Yes, goodbye to all of you," Smithees said, with a tip of his cap. With that he and Oduya walked away to the other side of the room.

"Erisa," said Captain Lethbridge-Stewart, advancing to Magambo, shaking her hand. "I'm afraid it seems I won't be seeing you for awhile. Hope you manage to get the promotion you deserve by the time I'm back."

"Thank you, Gordon," she replied. "You're a good man."

"Magambo," the Tenth Doctor then said, as Gordon stepped away. "Do let Malcolm know I was here would you? I think you know how eager he is to here of my exploits."

"Yes, I'll be sure to, Doctor," Magambo said. She gave him a salute, "It's been an honour to meet with you again."

She then walked off, joining Smithees and Oduya at the far side of the room. Which left one person to wish farewell.

Doris.

"Goodbye, Doris," said the Second Doctor, his tone sorrowful and sympathetic, placing a hand upon her shoulder. "I know how painful this must be for you. But I promise you now, that I'll get your husband home."

"I believe you, Doctor. Or at least I want to," she said, shedding a tear.

Having said that, the Second Doctor made his way to the TARDIS. However he paused at the entrance, noticing that Jamie still stood among the rest of the group.

"Coming, Jamie?" he asked.

"Um, I'm coming, Doctor," Jamie replied, before turning to Doris, saying, "Goodbye Doris." He then joined his Doctor, the two of them entering the TARDIS.

Which left only the Captain, the Tenth Doctor, the Brigadier and Doris behind.

"My past self has promised you he'll get Alistair home," said the Tenth Doctor. "I too can vouch for that. We'll get him home. I'll make sure of it."

"And I so hope you do, Doctor," Doris said with immense sadness. She knew the dreaded time was upon her. She may never see either Gordon or Alistair again.

_I can't lose Alistair. I can't._

"Doris," said Captain Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, pulling her into a tight hug. "I'll miss you. You're my granddad's other half, and I honestly don't know where he'd be without you. Just please, Doris. Please give mum some company, would you? She's not your daughter, but I can assure you, she loves you like you're her own mother."

"I'll be sure of it, Gordon," Doris replied, more tears dripping down her features. "Just keep yourself safe. And keep my husband safe."

"I will, Doris. I will. I love you so much."

He kissed her briefly on the cheek, then stood back. Leaving the final farewell to his grandfather. The most important and poignant of all the farewells. This, he knew, was an extremely intense moment. And it would be terrible for Doris.

"Doris-" the Brigadier began, but his grief prevented any further words coming out.

"Are you doing the right thing, Alistair?" Doris asked him.

"I… I like to think so," he said, his manner grave and intensely sad. Was he really doing the right thing? Perhaps not. "Maybe this isn't such a good-"

"Alistair. I don't want you to leave. I wish we could all just forget about this, live the rest of our lives in peace," Doris told him. "But, it's your life Alistair. And if you feel this is for the best….. then do it. It isn't my choice. Its yours."

"You're saying I should leave?" the Brigadier asked.

"I'm telling you to do what you think is right," Doris replied, as she desperately tried to reign her emotions under control. "That is thing of real importance."

The Brigadier paused for a moment, considering his wife's words. He then realised for certain what Doris's decision implied. Her acceptance was real, not just a reassuring lie to comfort him. She didn't want him to leave, making it continuously obvious, but she would wholeheartedly support his decision. Whatever it was.

_If I leave, then she would truly accept it._

His doubts subsided. And now he knew what was going to happen.

He was to leave.

"Then I'll leave, Doris. I'll find my real parents; know the truth beyond any doubt. And I'll do my part in making sure that not one life is lost to the Daleks, ever again. I too wish we could forget all of this, Doris. Live the remainder our lives in peace. But how can I? No, I have to go. And this Doris, is my decision."

"Oh, Alistair," Doris cried in dismay, her sadness more intense then it had ever been before her life. She gripped her husband, brought him into a hug, then kissed him fully on the lips. Time almost seemed to stand still; the Brigadier's mind unable to think of anything else but this moment. A moment which could be his last with his wife. But he vowed it would not be.

"I'll return to you, Doris," he told her, when the kissed had ended. "I'll return to you. And I don't care whatever is in that universe. Nothing will stop me from returning to you."

"And you know, Alistair," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "_I believe you_."

The Brigadier smiled.

"Goodbye my love. I'll never stop thinking of you."

"And you, Alistair. I'll never stop thinking of you."

With that said, no more was left to say. The Brigadier, along with his grandson and the Doctor, sadly walked to the TARDIS. Doris stood alone, motionless, watching as the three men entered the time travelling vessel. Alistair was the last to enter, staring out at her one last time, for one brief second. And then the door was closed.

"Get those particle engines firing!" came a shout from someone behind her.

There was pulling at levers, followed by an intense glow from the wall behind the TARDIS. Moments later, there was a familiar wheezing and groaning, the TARDIS slowly beginning to fade out of sight.

And then they were gone.

She screamed inside.

Alistair had left.

And she was now alone.

_Please don't die! Don't die, Alistair!_

**The TARDIS, Somewhere in Time and Space**

The Brigadier sat alone in a reading room located not far from the TARDIS console room.

And he was troubled dearly.

This time two days ago he could never have contemplated his current predicament. He'd have assumed he would be having dinner, then watching the television or some other activity, followed by a good night's rest (or as close he could get to a good night with his awful nightmares); laying next to his loving wife, Doris.

But this was not the case.

Instead he found himself here, in the Doctor's TARDIS. Travelling to another universe, on a mission not only to secure his existence, but also to save the near infinite amount of lives that existed in every universe. And quite possibly, he would never see his wife again.

_But I promised her_, he told himself. _I promised her that I'd come back._

But even if this was so, the point remained it would be years before he would see her again. And what if it was she who died? What would he do if he returned and found her gone? What then?

He shuddered, utterly disturbed at that particular thought. And with all his mental strength, he attempted to push out those terrible invasive thoughts. He succeeded, but at a cost.

His concerns of Doris were replaced by concerns of himself.

_Who am I?_

That was a question he was no closer to answering. Of course, he knew who he wasn't; not the son of Edward and Jane Lethbridge-Stewart. And he knew that he was of this other, parallel universe. Possibly even of that nightmarish desert world he dreamt of.

But he still had no idea whom or what he was.

_Who am I?_

Why was he prescient? Why did he possess 'the Sleeper', which now begun to awaken within the depths of his subconscious? And what exactly was this Water of Life; that deadly narcotic that had now too entered his dreams?

_Who am I?_

Then it happened.

"_He's vulnerable_," said a voice suddenly.

"What?" the Brigadier asked shocked, looking around in all directions of the reading room. "Who's there?"

No reply.

_Did I imagine it?_ the Brigadier asked himself.

Unfortunately for him, he did not.

"_How can he_?" asked another voice. "_He is not pre-born_."

"Who's there?" the Brigadier demanded, becoming more afraid. "Reveal yourselves!"

"_No. You are right he is not pre-born_," a third voice said. "_But somehow he is still vulnerable. He may yet be Abomination_."

_Abomination?_ the Brigadier questioned, realising then at that moment the voices came from his own mind.

"Who are you? What do you want?" he demanded of them once more.

And in reply he was met with the evil cackles of an endless multitude; a multitude of entities whom existed in his own head.

"_We want existence_!" cried billions of voices, the noise deafening to the Brigadier. He held his ears, trembled in dread, as the voices continued to laugh.

"NO! STOP IT!" he shouted, trying to fend them off. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

But it did not stop them.

Instead the swarm launched their attack.

No longer did the Brigadier see the reading room. Rather, he saw _them_. The multitude of conscious entities; billions of them competing for his attention.

"_ME_!"

"_NO, ME_!"

"_I CAN HELP YOU_!"

Alistair then realised they were his ego memories. Genetic memory taking conscious form; passed down through the sperm and ovum of his ancestors. Billions of memory essences, all competing against each other to live once more.

They wanted his mind.

"_Let me in. I only want a small piece. A small corner of your consciousness for myself. That's all I want_."

"_I, Agamemnon, your ancestor, demand audience_!"

"_What has become of Ovid? Simple. He's John Bartlett's ibid_!" came an insane cackle from one of them.

"_Oh, talk to them? I took the shirts of their backs after they'd finished training_."

"_Well there can't be a practical reason for believing what isn't true_."

"_LET ME IN!_"

"No…. no!" the Brigadier cried, fighting against them with all his mental strength.

"Please. Leave me, please!"

But they did not stop. Ruthlessly they kept on; clawing upon his mental barriers. It seemed as if they would never give in.

_I'm losing my mind_, the Brigadier thought, his situation now looking near hopeless. How could he resist them much more? There were just too many of them.

"_ME_!"

"_ME_!"

However when all seemed lost, a crescendo of blue light appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The Brigadier was simply unable to explain what happened next. The world around him shook like a devastating earthquake. The ego memories stopped their attacks, rendered motionless in shock. Like him, they could not comprehend what was unfolding. But then, suddenly, they began to scream.

"_What are you_?" they cried in sheer terror. "_What are you_?"

The light intensified, becoming so bright the Brigadier could see nothing other than its blueness. There were more screams, and then, the multitude fled.

At that moment, the Brigadier somehow realised that never again would his ego memories trouble him. Somehow, for some reason, they had become enslaved to his will. His to command.

_Why? What, what happened to me?_

The light subsided, leaving the Brigadier back in the reading room. He was on the floor, his chair having toppled over.

But the world around him continued to quake.

He got up, as tremors shook all around him. Bookcases collapsed. A pot fell from a table, smashed.

"Granddad!" Gordon then cried. "Granddad!"

"Gordon?" he shouted back.

He left the reading room, saw Gordon running towards him down the corridor.

"Granddad."

"Gordon," he said. "What in God's name is happening?"

"Trouble," his grandson replied, his worry evident. "According to the Doctors, were entering the parallel universe. However, something's gone wrong."

"Something's gone wrong?"

"Yes. But they don't know what, not yet anyway. But, we better get back to the console room. It isn't safe here."

"Let's go then," the Brigadier agreed.

They sped down the corridor, then down another, arriving at the TARDIS console room. The two Doctors were at the controls, appearing panic stricken, desperately trying to calm the TARDIS's _unstable_ flight.

"I've always told you can't fly this machine!" Jamie shouted at his Doctor. "You're going to get us all killed, Doctor!"

"Jamie. Please, would you please be kind enough to SHUT UP!" the Second Doctor roared in response. "AND FOR ONCE JAMIE, DO AS YOU ARE TOLD!"

"Doctors," the Brigadier begun, "what on earth is going on?"

"We're trying to enter the parallel universe, Brigadier," the Tenth Doctor replied, as he dashed across the console, meddling with the controls in desperation. "But the TARDIS is having a teeny tiny problem transiting into your universe."

"A teeny tiny problem, Doctor?" the Brigadier asked.

"Actually, no. If I'm being serious, then were in a catastrophic situation," the Time Lord replied, though perfectly calm and without spite. "And there's a small chance were all going to die."

"Is that meant to be comforting?"

"Well," the Tenth Doctor said, "it is only a small chance, Brigadier."

Suddenly however, the tremors stopped.

"What? Is it all over?" Jamie asked.

The Second Doctor checked the scanner.

"Yes, Jamie," he said smiling. "It seems we've successfully made the transition. Now, perhaps- OH NO! OH MY GIDDY AUNT!"

"What? What is it?" Gordon asked, highly alarmed.

"I'd hold onto something!-"

The trembling begun anew, and more then it had ever done. A massive jolt then rocked the TARDIS, toppling Jamie, Gordon and the Brigadier to the floor.

"What's going on, Doctor? What in God's name is happening now?" the Brigadier questioned.

The Tenth Doctor ran over to the scanner, checking it for himself. He then answered:

"Oh dear. It's the dematerialisation circuit. It's been badly damaged and- NO!"

Green sparkling bright energy then begun to fill the room. It grew darker, larger, and the Brigadier soon found himself engulfed within it.

"NO! NO!" the Tenth Doctor cried.

"What is this stuff?" Gordon asked in total dread.

"Some of us may be dematerialised!" the Tenth Doctor shouted, as he sped round the console. "Hold still! I'm going to try and get us out of this!"

But slowly…. the Brigadier, Gordon and the Second Doctor, all felt as if they were slowly fading away.

_NO!_ the Brigadier thought. _Where am I going?_

But that was not all what concerned him. He had a terrible feeling as if he was being watched.

**Somewhere in that universe…**

As events unfolded upon TARDIS, a boy dreamt upon a far distant world.

He was fifteen years old, but appeared small for his age. He looked much like his father, but possessed significant traits of his mother and paternal grandfather, the Old Duke.

And the boy had often found himself haunted by strange dreams; dreams of the planet, his father would soon take fiefdom of.

Arakkis. Also known as Dune.

Thufir Hawat, his father's Master of Assassins, had explained the situation to him: Arakkis had been held by their mortal enemies, the Harkonnens, for eighty years, in quasi-fief under a CHOAM Company contract to mine the geriatric spice, melange. But now, the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV, had deemed it fit to award House Atreides with Arakkis, in fief-complete; an apparent victory for his father, Duke Leto. Yet, Hawat had told him that this appearance contained the deadliest peril, for Duke Leto was popular among the Great Houses of the Landsraad.

"A popular man arouses the jealously of the powerful," Hawat had said.

And indeed, it was well known that Shaddam was bitterly jealous of his cousin.

But even before his father had been 'awarded' Arakkis, the boy had had dreams of that world. A planet, which as Dr Yueh had told him, contained so little water that wasting a mere drop was considered sacrilegious.

It was not just Dune he had dreamed of though. He had dreamed of many things; things which he felt would come to pass.

But tonight, he dreamt of something unlike he had ever dreamt before.

It was a strange blue rectangular object, which he saw sore through space. What was so astounding about the box though, was the fact it was far more than it appeared to be.

It was a ship. And it was bigger within the inside.

_Aliens_, the boy had thought. _They exist after all._

But only two of the ship's crew were alien; and somehow, despite the idea seeming totally contradictory, the boy felt as if they were both the same man.

The other three crew however he felt were human. And two of them, the boy felt, seemed oddly familiar.

_But how? I've never seen them before._

But as the dream continued, the boy begun to understand why. Both men, one young and the other old, had traits in their features which could be too seen in him. The younger man in particular, possessed the same browline, strong cheekbones, eyes and the roundness of face which he (the boy) had inherited from his mother. But the adolescent felt as if the familiarity extended beyond mere appearance; no, it was more than that, and he felt it even more strongly within the older man.

_What can it be?_ he asked himself.

All five of the crew stood in what appeared to be the main control room; and every one of them seemed deeply panicked, as the room was shook by tremors.

And then the room started to fill full of an eerie green energy; a substance which had made the crew even more alarmed.

"What is this stuff?" asked the younger man whom he'd felt that strange familiarity with.

"Some of us may be dematerialised!" the younger looking alien cried. "Hold still! I'm going to try and get us out of this!"

But it was to no avail. The older looking alien and the two men whom he'd felt familiar with, faded out of sight. The dream changed, and the boy soon found himself looking out at a black void. And within the void, fell that strange familiar old man. And where he went, the old man had no idea.

Paul Atreides awoke from his slumber. As he did, he heard the side door open, saw two figures enter. And through the half-light of his suspensor lamp, dimmed and hanging near the floor, Paul could make out his mother, the Lady Jessica.

"Is he not small for his age, Jessica?" the other figure asked, her voice wheezed and twanged like an untuned baliset. She was a witch shadow; hair like matted spider webs, hooded 'round darkness of features, eyes glittering like jewels.

"The Atreides are known to start late getting their growth, Your Reverence," Jessica replied.

"So I've heard, so I've heard," the old woman wheezed. "Yet he's already fifteen."

"Yes, Your Reverence."

"He's awake and listening to us," the old woman remarked, noticing that the young boy was conscious. "Sly little rascal." She chuckled. "But royalty has need of slyness. And if he's really the Kwisatz Haderach…. well…."

"_My future husband dreamt of their arrival. But, he could not comprehend who they were at the time. He did not know the significance of the Doctors. And nor did he realise who Alistair truly was."_

_- from the "Manual of Muad'Dib" by Irulan Corrino-Atreides_


	12. The Gom Jabbar ACT TWO

"_You've heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? That's an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind."_

_-the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam_

**Castle Caladan, Caladan - 10,191 AG**

As dawn touched the window sill with yellow light, Paul sensed it through closed eyelids, then opened them; hearing the renewed bustle and hurry within the castle. The sounds which signalled the soon departure to Arakkis.

Arakkis, Paul knew, would be quite unlike the tranquillity House Atreides had experienced for so long on Caladan. It was a tough, utterly arid world; its surface nearly all desert. It was a planet which was the home of the great sandworms; monsters so large they could swallow a space frigate whole. It was also ravaged by vicious coriolis storms, reaching wind speeds up to seven hundred kilometres an hour, capable of grinding human bone to dust. Indeed, it truly was a perilous world.

But upon that planet lay the most precious substance in all the Known Universe. The spice, melange, key to wealth like no other. Without melange, travel between worlds would be impossible; the spice precipitating the "navigation trance", by which the navigators of the Spacing Guild could see a translight pathway before it was travelled. Without melange, billions of those addicted to the spice would die in withdrawal; life expectancy also dropping to a quarter of its levels. Quite simply, whoever controlled the spice controlled the Imperium.

And that was House Corrino; the Imperial House, which had ruled mankind for over ten thousand years, in conjunction with the other Great Houses of the Landsraad and the Spacing Guild (with their monopoly on space travel) as according to the Great Convention. The Padishah Emperor and his allies held over a 50% stake in the CHAOM Company, thus giving Shaddam effective control over the spice.

But House Corrino had never personally ruled over Arakkis; the fiefdom always in control of some other Great House of the Imperium. And for the pasty eighty years, this had been the Harkonnens. A House known so well for its cruelty and deceit, which had so appalled Duke Leto; who pronounced kanly between the two Houses. The Harkonnens had no care for ethics. Their sole focus was profit, and they did not care how it was obtained.

_And to think they would give up Arakkis without trouble would be dire foolishness_, Paul thought. _My father is right to be concerned. Much danger awaits upon Arakkis._

The hall door opened and his mother peered in, hair a shaded bronze held by a black ribbon at the crown, her oval face emotionless and green eyes staring solemnly.

"You're awake," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

Paul paused.

"For the most part."

Jessica's face turned grave; she was disturbed.

"You had those dreams again," she said. "Didn't you?"

"Yes," Paul replied. "But there was something more this time."

"You must tell the Reverend Mother," Jessica told him. "It's imperative she knows. You have to tell her about all your dreams, Paul."

"The Reverend Mother?" Paul asked curiously. "Was she the woman with you?"

"Yes."

"I dreamed of her once. Who is she?" Paul asked.

"She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school," Jessica replied, as she moved to the closet racks, began to choose clothing for him. "Now, she's the Emperor's Truthsayer."

"Is she the reason we got Arakkis?"

"We did not _get_ Arakkis," she said, as she picked out a pair of trousers and a semiformal jacket, which carried the Atreides hawk crest above its breast pocket. She hung them on the dressing stand beside his bed. "Now, hurry up and dress. The Reverend Mother is waiting for you."

Paul sat up, hugged his knees.

_What's a gom jabbar?_ he thought, thinking of the Reverend Mother's words before she'd left the bedroom.

"Sleep well, you sly little rascal," the old woman had said. "Tomorrow you'll need all your faculties to meet my gom jabbar."

_A gom jabbar._

"What's a gom jabbar?" Paul then asked his mother.

Through her notable Bene Gesserit training, Jessica could have quite easily hid her emotions from a common observer. But Paul was not common. She herself had trained him in the Bene Gesserit way. He saw her invisible hesitation. His mother was afraid.

Jessica crossed to the window, opened the draperies, revealing the view of river orchards before Mount Syubi. "You'll learn about…. the gom jabbar soon enough," she answered.

Paul detected a tinge of fear in her voice, wondered at it.

Jessica turned to the leave the room, but stopped before she reached the door. She turned round, said, "The Reverend Mother is waiting in my morning room. Please hurry, Paul."

And then she left.

**The TARDIS, Somewhere in Time and Space**

"HOLD ON JAMIE!" the Tenth Doctor cried, attempting almost futilely to bring the TARDIS under control.

Sparks went off underneath the console, two roundels blew up, while the vessel kept on shuddering violently. Jamie couldn't simply believe what was going. Not only was this by far the most violent journey he'd ever taken upon the TARDIS; but the Captain, the Brigadier and _his_ Doctor… were just gone.

_What happened to them?_ Jamie thought, utterly astonished by the sudden events. _They're…. gone._

"What, what's going on, Doctor?" Jamie questioned, as he clung desperately onto the console. "Where did all they go?"

"They've been dematerialised off the TARDIS, Jamie," the Doctor replied, clinging onto the console with one hand, adjusting the controls with the other. "There's nothing we can do for them now."

"What?" Jamie cried. "They're…. dead?"

"**No**," the Doctor said. "Fortunately no, Jamie."

"Then where did they go?" Jamie demanded.

"Somewhere safe. The TARDIS has emergency procedures in place. She couldn't stop them from being dematerialised, but she's managed to get them somewhere hospitable enough. Breathable atmosphere, plenty of vegetation and water."

"But where did they go?" Jamie demanded once more.

"I don't know, Jamie!" the Tenth Doctor shouted. "I don't know! Leave me to pilot the TARDIS!"

Jamie complied, but his demand to know remained within him. He had to know what had happened to _his_ Doctor.

_Doctor. Doctor where are you?_

The tremors got worse.

"No! No!" the Doctor shouted, as he pulled hard upon the handbrake. "Don't do this!" He moved along the console again, pulled levers, turned dials, trying anything.

"This doesn't sound too good, Doctor."

"There's no stopping her," the Doctor replied, continuing to rapidly fiddle with the controls. "The lower engines- HANG ON!"

"What?"

But the Doctor never replied, instead diving off the console dais, stumbling over. On his knees, he opened up a grate, dived below to come underneath the console.

"What yah doing?" Jamie asked.

"Saving our lives," the Tenth Doctor said, pulling out his new screwdriver. "Hold on Jamie!" He turned the screwdriver on.

Sparks flew out from underneath, before the familiar wheezing and groaning sound of the TARDIS' engines was emitted through the time rotor. The time rotor then stopped, as the TARDIS suddenly came to a thundering halt, tossing Jamie to the ground.

"HA! HA! YES! I knew it'd work!" came a shout from below.

The Scotsman man got up, saw the Tenth Doctor emerge out of the open grate.

"Allons-y!" the Doctor cried in delight. "Genius. I am, aren't I, Jamie?"

"What did yah do?" Jamie asked.

"I managed to disable the engines," the Doctor said, as he approached the Highlander. "Brought the TARDIS right to a halt. Only problem is, well, were kind of stuck now."

"Were stuck-"

"Only for a few hours, I'd say, Jamie," he said grinning, as he checked the scanner. "Yep. Seems were suspended in intergalactic space; half way between Andromeda and the Mutter's Spiral."

He turned, approaching Jamie once more.

"Just some repairs on the dematerialisation circuit and the time rotor, and we can be on our way," he told the companion of his second self.

"But, Doctor," Jamie said, deepest concern apparent upon his features. "What about _my_ Doctor? And what about Gordon and the Brigadier? We can't just leave them! We can't!"

The Tenth Doctor did not answer Jamie's question at first, rather concerned himself with his own thoughts on their predicament, turning away from the Highlander. Jamie was more than right to be concerned; his past self, Gordon and the Brigadier had been dematerialised, and to where they'd gone the Doctor had no idea. Of course, he trusted the TARDIS' emergency procedures to have not sent them too far. It was not likely that any of them would have ended up on an obscure world like Zeta Minor, right upon the boundaries of the universe itself. But the fact remained that it would be a task of considerable immensity in finding the three of them. Another task, which he certainly did not need.

_I have to consider the priority right know_, he thought, making what he knew was an extremely troubling decision. _And that currently…. is the paradox_.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," the Doctor said, turning to his companion again. "But the paradox is our most immediate concern."

"What! Yah just going to leave them, Doctor? You can't-"

"I can. And I will, Jamie," the Doctor made it clear, raising his voice. "I cannot stress how important it is that we find Alistair's parents. If we don't, well…. I think you know by now what will happen, Jamie. No. The paradox has to be stopped."

"So we're going to leave them?" Jamie questioned in astonishment. "For two, maybe three years?"

"We have to. We've got no choice, Jamie."

"But anything could happen to them, Doctor!" Jamie cried, continuing his protests. "If we leave them they could die!"

"And you think I don't know this, McCrimmon?" the Doctor then suddenly roared; his manner very unlike his usual geeky, erratic behaviour where he appeared not to take much seriously. Right now he was deadly serious. "Must I stress again how important it is we prevent that paradox? Must I?"

Jamie just stood in silence, face pale, nervously watching the Doctor. Having witnessed the old Time Lord's anger, Jamie now realised any attempt of protest was useless. The Tenth Doctor was determined to rid themselves of the paradox before making any attempt to find the Brigadier, Gordon and the _other_ Doctor. And while he didn't like it, Jamie now accepted what the Doctor said was true; the paradox had to take priority over the rescue of the crew's missing members.

"No, Doctor," Jamie said at last. "Yah need not."

The Doctor sighed.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," he apologised. "I shouldn't have got angry at you; especially you of all people. But the paradox must first be dealt with. And then, I can promise you we'll find them; all three of them, and I can assure you of that."

Jamie nodded, though his worry still remained. He could only hope that his Doctor managed to keep himself alive; though after his years with travelling with him, Jamie knew that the clownish Time Lord was more than capable of looking after himself. That he knew for certain.

It was then however that Jamie's thoughts turned to a man that he and the Tenth Doctor had seemingly forgotten about.

"Um, Doctor?" he asked.

"Yes, Jamie?"

"What about the Master?"

The Tenth Doctor smiled.

"Well Jamie, the Master is quite securely safe in- What! Wait a moment! WHAT! He could have been dematerialised!" the Doctor then cried.

He then bolted out off the console room, as Jamie chased after him, as worried as the Doctor that the Master may have escaped. And from the little he knew about him, he realised that his escape would mean deep trouble for this universe.

**Castle Caladan, Caladan - 10,191 AG**

In Jessica's morning room, the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam sat in a tapestried chair, waiting for the soon arrival of the Duke's concubine and son. She felt somewhat unwell, and had been so since her arrival by heighliner the previous day. The abominable Guild were of course to blame; though Helen Mohiam had more important concerns than even thinking about those maggots. For here was truly a task for a Bene Gesserit sister of her rank. If this boy could pass her gom jabbar then the Sisterhood's generations of planning may have yet not been lost.

_Indeed, Jessica's failure to bear the daughter we wanted could have ruined all that effort_, the Reverend Mother mused to herself, as the opposite door opened, with Paul and Jessica entering. _But if what she says is true about her son, then well, the Sisterhood's plans for this universe could still be achieved._

"Reverend Mother," Jessica said, performing a small curtsy, after she and Paul had approached the old truthsayer. Paul gave a short bow; the one in which his dancing master taught him to use "when in doubt of another's station".

"He's a cautious one, Jessica," the Reverend Mother said, noticing the subtleties of Paul's bow.

Jessica gave a slight nod, before she answered, "So he has been taught, Your Reverence."

"I see," the Reverend Mother simply replied, before her attention turned to the boy, studying him for a few moments. They were slight, but the signs were written upon the adolescent's features; the physical traits that indicated the scope of the Sisterhood's breeding programme. Some of which that came from a source the Atreides would least suspect.

"Nevertheless," the old woman continued, "to be taught in our ways is not enough. Potential is required. And whether he has any remains to be seen."

"Your Reverence, I can assure you that Paul-"

"The gom jabbar will settle the matter," the Reverend Mother answered, cutting Jessica off. "Now, leave us. I suggest you practice the meditation of peace."

"Your Reverence-"

"Jessica," the Reverend Mother said sternly. "You know it must be done."

"I-I… um," Jessica said, hesitating. "Of course, Reverend Mother."

Having conceded to her old teacher, Jessica turned to Paul, leaning down, placing her hands upon his shoulders. She took a deep breath, before she told him:

"Paul… the test you're about to receive… it's important to me. Quite possibly important for all the Sisterhood."

"Test?" Paul questioned, deeply confused about what was happening. Never had he seen his mother so afraid, so easily letting down the psychological defences built upon her Bene Gesserit training.

_Something's wrong_, he thought. _That's for certain. Something very wrong._

"Remember your training," Jessica told him. "And remember that you're an Atreides."

Having finished her sentence, she then turned and exited the room. The door closing behind her.

Paul turned to the old Reverend Mother, as anger flowed through his veins.

"Does one dismiss the Lady Jessica like she were a serving wench?" he questioned, venting his anger at the Bene Gesserit.

"Your mother was my serving wench, lad, for fourteen years at school," she answered him. "And good one too, I may add. Now come here!"

Paul didn't move a muscle; instead just stared in anger at the old woman.

"Is this how you obey your mother, child?" the Reverend Mother asked him, making her frustration clear. "_**You come here**_!"

And before he could even think about, Paul obeyed to the command. _She uses the Voice on me_, he thought, before stopping before the Reverend Mother.

"Good, now we can begin, lad," she said, as she pulled out a green metal cube from her robe, with one open side in which only darkness could be seen. And whatever was contained within it greatly disturbed him.

_What is that thing?_

"Put your right hand in the box," the Reverend Mother told him.

He did as he asked, but complied only slowly, as fear gripped him. The box felt cold, and soon a prickling arose as though his hand were asleep. He was dreadfully afraid, though he firmly refused to show to the old Bene Gesserit.

A smirk arose on the Reverend Mother's face, as she withdrew her right hand away from the box, positioning it near Paul's neck. He saw something glitter there, so started to turn towards it.

"_**Stop**_!" the Reverend Mother ordered him, as she used the _Voice_ once again.

Paul turned his head to face her again; afraid, yet curious as to why she'd stopped him turning towards the small glint of metal.

"I would keep still, lad, if you any wish to survive this test," the Reverend Mother told him. "What I hold against your neck is the gom jabbar. A needle with a drop of poison on its tip. As a Duke's son, I'll expect you will know about poisons. But the gom jabbar is quite different to any you may have encountered in the Assassin's handbook. It kills only animals."

"Animals?" an enraged Paul questioned, feeling insulted. "You suggest that the son of a Duke is an animal?"

"You may be human. You may not," answered the old woman. "The answer depends on whether you pass this test."

"Who are you?" Paul demanded, as he continued to vent his anger. "How is that you managed trick my mother into this? You're with the Harkonnens, aren't you?"

"You think me a Harkonnen? Great mother, no," said the Reverend Mother, somewhat amused at the child's suggestion. "And nor did I trick your mother into anything, child. She consented to this fully aware of what would happen. I'm not here to murder you, lad, but only to test if you are human."

"And yet you threaten-"

"I offer no threats. Many of the Sisterhood have undergone this test, including your mother. And every one of them were in an equally perilous situation as you. Now, be silent."

Paul obeyed the order, as the old Truthsayer put a finger to his neck. He resisted the urge to pull away.

"Good," she said. "You pass the first test. Now, here's the hard part. If you withdraw your hand from the box then you will die. Keep your hand in the box and you will live. This is the only rule."

"And what's in the box?" Paul asked.

"Pain," the Reverend Mother said. "Pain like you'll have never felt before."

"How can this be a test?"

"You've heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap?" asked the Reverend Mother in response. "That's an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind."

"Why are you testing whether I'm human?"

"That can be saved for later, _if_ you survive," the Bene Gesserit told him. "Now, remain silent until we're done."

Paul complied, as the tingling sensation in his hand grew. Soon it became a burning sensation, which continued to increase as time went by.

_It burns!_

The box got hotter and hotter, and along with it the pain got worse. Sweat trickled from his forehead, as his clenched left fist trembled. He breathed in gasps, which despite his efforts he could not slow.

"It burns!" he cried aloud, staring into the ancient face of the Reverend Mother.

"Silence!" she demanded.

The pain grew further, and Paul knew that there wouldn't be much hope for his hand. He thought he could feel skin curling back, flesh crisping and dropping away until only charred bones would remain. But he had no choice to keep it in the tormenting box lest he have the gom jabbar brought upon him. The agony had to be endured.

_The burning! The burning!_

And then, as if a switch had been turned off, the pain stopped.

_At last_, he thought. _It's over._

"That's enough," the Reverend Mother said. "Kull wahad! No woman child withstood that much. I must have wanted you to fail." She withdraw the gom jabbar, before telling him, "Take your hand out of the box and look at it."

He did so slowly, fearfully expecting to find it to be now no more than a blackened stump. But upon withdrawing it, to his amazement he found it completely unharmed. Not even a mark could be seen upon it.

"How? What?"

"Pain by nerve induction," the Bene Gesserit answered him. "The Sisterhood can't go about maiming potential humans, can we?" She put the box back in her robe.

"But, the pain-"

"Was only that. Pain," she said. "A human can easily override any nerve in their body."

"You did that to my mother once?" Paul asked.

"Yes. Years ago, when your mother was but a pupil. No older than you are," said the Reverend Mother. "Ever sift sand through a screen?"

The question shocked Paul, bringing his mind to into a higher state of awareness. _Sand through a screen. _He nodded.

"We Bene Gesserit sift people to find the humans."

"And that's all there is to it; Pain? Surely there is more to it than that?" Paul questioned her, not forgetting the agony he had experienced in his hand.

"Oh, of course. But I observed far more than any mere resistance to pain, lad. I saw your mother's training in you, as well as your potential," she said. "No animal would've passed that test; no matter its strength or toughness."

"Why do you test for humans?"

"To set you free."

"Free?"

The Reverend Mother paused for a moment, deep in thought, before she said:

"Once men thought turning its labours over to machines would set them free. But that only enabled other men with machines to enslave them."

"'Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man's mind,'" Paul quoted.

"Ah, yes. Right out of the Orange Catholic Bible," the Bene Gesserit noted. "But the O.C. Bible wasn't quite right there. What it should have said was, 'Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man's mind.' Have you studied the mentat in your service?"

"I've studied _with_ Thufir Hawat."

"Mentats are but just one example of how the _human_ mind was required to develop after the Jihad," said the Reverend Mother. "Schools were developed to help train upon _humans_ new talents. There exist two chief survivors of those schools; the Spacing Guild and the Bene Gesserit. The Guild deals with pure mathematics, or at least so we think. As for the Bene Gesserit… we perform a different function."

"Politics."

"Kull wahad!" the Bene Gesserit cried in shock. "Did your mother tell you that?"

Paul shook his head.

"That's quite an achievement, lad. You did that with few clues to go on. Politics indeed," she said. "Yes, long ago, the Bene Gesserit saw the need of a thread of continuity in human affairs. But this could be only achieved by separating human stock from that of animal. A breeding programme was required."

"So you look for the right genetic traits in those women you admit to the Sisterhood?" asked Paul.

"Yes," the Reverend Mother admitted, nodding as she did so. "But more than that. Are breeding programme extends far beyond that those of the Bene Gesserit."

Paul suddenly felt disturbed at what the Reverend Mother had just told him; feeling offence at what his mother called his _instinct of rightness_. No, it wasn't that the Reverend Mother was lying to him. She clearly believed what she said. Rather, that what she had said related to something much deeper; that he was the end of some terrible purpose.

"Now," the Reverend Mother then said, "perhaps it is time we allowed your mother back in. I think we've kept her waiting for too long. Jessica!"

Jessica entered, with her eyes immediately darting onto Paul. Relief swept her, as she now knew her son had passed that dreaded test and survived. She smiled.

_My son lives. He survived and he is… human. But I knew was regardless…. but… he lives. My son lives._

"Paul," she said.

Paul shared her joy, though only expressed it with a faint smile. His mother now knew he had survived; knowing that he had not succumbed to the gom jabbar.

"One day, lad," the Reverend Mother then said. "you too may have to stand outside a door like that. It is a measure of some doing."

He agreed, remembering the fear his mother had shown all morning, knowing that this test was to be performed on her son. But a question now troubled Paul's mind. Why did his mother allow this test? To know whether he was human? No, it was something more than that. It was that terrible purpose he had felt; that he was somehow involved in something that would alter the course of mankind.

_But what can it be?_

"You said before that your breeding programme went beyond the Bene Gesserit," Paul said, turning his attention back to the Reverend Mother. "Am I of some purpose to this programme?"

"Paul-"

"I'll handle this, Jessica," the old Reverend Mother said, cutting the Duke's concubine off. She turned her gaze to Paul. "Do you know of the Truthsayer drug, lad?"

"Yes. You take it to improve your ability to detect falsehood," Paul replied. "My mother's told me."

"Have you ever seen truthtrance?"

Paul shook his head.

"The drug's dangerous, but gives insight," said the Reverend Mother. "When under the drug, a Truthsayer may look deep into her body's memories; the memories of those from which she was descended. However… despite as many avenues we look down into past, never has a Truthsayer ventured down male avenues. Only the memories of females are open to us." She paused, as her voice then expressed a tinge of fear and awe. "Yet, it is said a man one day will come and find in the gift of the drug his inward eye. Both avenues - female and male - will be open to him."

"And your aim is to find such a man?" Paul questioned, fascinated yet increasingly disturbed. It was now not difficult to suspect the Reverend Mother's interest in him.

"Of course," the Reverend Mother answered. "The Sisterhood has been trying for countless generations to find such an individual. The Kwisatz Haderach we call him. A being who would change the course of mankind…. for the _better_."

"And you think I'm this Kwisatz Haderach, don't you?" Paul asked swiftly. "That's why you're here isn't it?"

"There is a possibility you are the one we seek," the Bene Gesserit replied. "But there is still too little to go on to be sure. Male _humans_ have been tested before; have undergone the truthtrance. None of them have succeeded."

"They tried and failed, all of them?" Paul questioned her.

"Oh, no," the Reverend Mother answered, shaking her head. "They tried and died."


	13. Materialisation

A/N: Chapter dedicated to the great Nick Courtney, who died two days ago after his battle with cancer. A wonderful actor and a wonderful human being. RIP.

"_I conclude therefore, that it is not without grounds that the wise have said that sapient alien life would bring nothing but chaos and destruction for all humankind. And if they ever were encountered, then the correct way to deal with them would be the genocide of them all. Both us and they know the risks - and they too would equally try and destroy us. They should be struck upon sight, before they have chance to do the same. They should be treated as abominations - for that is what they truly are."_

_-from the "Politics of the Landsraad" by Jens Strevellian _

**Tevino Beach, Caladan - 10,191 AG**

A wave broke, water rushing across the shore. It passed a man who lay unconscious upon the beach; its wetness unable to wake him. Another wave broke, but this time it succeeded in bringing the man out of his slumber. Slowly he started to open his eyelids, as the cry of gulls further brought attention to his location.

With his old suit now soaking wet, the Second Doctor begun to gradually get up. In his disorientation (which he was experiencing from his sudden dematerialisation), he fell a couple of times, though eventually managed to stand upon two feet. Gaining his bearings, he realised he was in a tropical location, as the sight of rainforest lay before him.

_It seems those emergency procedures actually worked then_, he thought to himself. _I appear to be alive and in a habitable location._

The Doctor looked all around him, his eyes trying to locate signs of settlement; somewhere where he could at least ask what planet he had landed upon (presuming the native population even understood that worlds were generally round celestial bodies). To his delight, he spotted a large castle perched upon a distant hilltop. He pulled a compass (which seemed like any normal compass, though aligned itself with a planet's true north rather than its magnetic pole) from his right pocket; the device indicating that the castle was to the west. Now aware of his destination, the Time Lord ventured into the jungle, compass in hand.

Aware he was on an unknown planet, the Doctor was careful not to make any disturbance in his jungle crossing, lest he bring his attention known to any hostile wildlife. Though as he realised, this world's sapient population could prove just as hostile to him. Nevertheless, unless he planned to live as Robinson Crusoe until his future self could track him down, he knew he had to contact the planet's local populace. If they had interstellar travel then he could still yet track down the Brigadier's parents.

_Though thinking of the Brigadier, the poor chap probably doesn't have a clue what's going on. Nor does his grandson. Still, the two of them can surely keep themselves alive until my successor can find them. Or at least I hope so._

As he continued on his journey further inland, the Doctor heard the various chirps and squawks of tropical birds. Instead of just ignoring them however, he came to the realisation that all of the species he now heard all originated from Earth. The implications were obvious. He was on a human colony planet. A planet which would have access to interstellar travel, enabling to continue the mission that had been set to him by the Guardian.

Relieved by his sudden discovery, he carried on until he finally exited the rainforest. Roughly a mile away was the castle, stood upon its hilltop, having view of all its nearby farmland. A river however lay between there, which bended to the south after having passed the castle. Orchards lay on the nearby bank, and a wooden bridge served as crossing from one side to the next. But this estate was by no means public; lines of shield generating poles protected the land from any unwanted intrusion.

_Pru shields_, the Doctor noted, recognising the technology. _Specifically designed to keep people out where they aren't wanted._

He approached the shielding, examining one of the poles. The shielding technology was actually quite impressive by human standards, but it was yet vulnerable to the Time Lord's trusty screwdriver. He deactivated the pole, bringing down a small section of shielding, before reactivating it upon his crossing into the estate. Even if the shielding's brief failure had been noticed, he assumed it would be put down to no more than a brief electronic glitch rather than any intrusive tampering. He wanted to at least get inside the castle before he let his presence known to its occupants.

_Though I'll still end up getting locked in some shabby cell regardless_, he thought.

**Castle Caladan**

"So, Jessica, what do you have to say for yourself?" the Reverend Mother questioned her former pupil.

Jessica looked up, her thoughts interrupted by the Truthsayer's sharp question. It was past noon now, nearly two hours after Paul's perilous ordeal. He now was alone in the adjoining soundproof Meditation Chamber, while she and the Reverend Mother stood alone in her morning room.

_Poor Paul_, Jessica thought, as she flexed her fingers, remembering how she had once gone through that ordeal herself many years ago on Wallach IX. The pain, the anger, the terror, she herself had experienced upon placing her own hand in that terrible box.

"Jessica, I asked you a question!" the Reverend Mother demanded, annoyed at the younger woman's lack of reply. "You'll answer it, girl."

"What? Oh-" Jessica said, before she managed to focus once more on the old Reverend Mother. "You want me to explain why I did it?"

"What do you think I'm asking, Jessica?" the Truthsayer spat, becoming increasingly frustrated with her former pupil.

"So I had a son!" Jessica shouted, knowing that the Reverend Mother was deliberately goading her to anger. "You want me to justify that?"

"You were clearly told-"

"-to bear my Duke only daughters?" Jessica said, anticipating the rest of the Reverend Mother's sentence. "Yes, I know. But having a son; it meant so much to him. I couldn't find it in me to disappoint him. I couldn't."

"So then. You disobeyed the Sisterhood because of your own petty desires?" the old women harshly questioned Jessica. "Your silly little infatuation with the Duke was more important than our efforts to create the Kwisatz Haderach? Thousands of years planning and preparation, wasted."

"Paul could still be your Kwisatz Haderach," Jessica retorted. "I sensed the possibility myself when I conceived him."

"Do not take me for a fool, Jessica. You thought only for your Duke's desire for a son," said the Reverend Mother, still angered at the Atreides concubine. "An Atreides daughter could have been wed to a Harkonnen heir, sealing the breach. We'd have created the Kwisatz Haderach for certain. But **you**, have hopelessly complicated matters! Both bloodlines could now be lost."

"I vowed to never regret my decision," Jessica said defiantly.

"Yes, how very noble of you!" said the Reverend Mother, her voiced tainted with sarcasm. "No regrets. We'll see when you and your son are fugitives; with your Duke dead, his House in ruin."

"So there's no alternative?" Jessica worryingly asked, fearing for the lives of Leto and their son.

"Alternative? Does a Bene Gesserit need to ask that?"

"You have superior abilities to my own, Reverend Mother," said Jessica. "I only ask whether any other possibility exists."

"There is nothing which can be done for the Duke," Helen Mohiam confirmed. "He'll perish on Arrakis, there is no doubt of that. You and Paul are still salvageable. Our hopes are that the key bloodlines could yet be saved from the coming storm. If not, then it will take us millennia more to get the breeding programme back on track."

"My _poor_ Leto."

"Is doomed, and he knows it. Avoiding his fate is a near impossibility. The Sisterhood's influence over the Emperor only extends so far," said the Reverend Mother. "And if Shaddam wants rid of your Duke, then he'll have rid of him. His fate has been sealed since you gave birth to a son instead of the daughter we needed. All this could have been prevented, but your defiance has led to this crisis. We could have preserved your Duke, but now - too late."

Jessica trembled, tears rolling down her cheeks, while her hand was clenched into a fist. Was Leto truly doomed to die upon Arrakis? Did there not exist even a fraction of hope for him?

"I'll pay for my own mistake."

"And I'm afraid your son will pay with you."

"I'll shield him as well I'm able."

"Shield?" the Reverend Mother questioned. "You know well, Jessica, that if you shield him too much then he'll not be strong enough to fulfil _any_ destiny." She briefly paused, then said, "Now, I think it's time I spoke with the boy once more. I'll be leaving shortly, and it is imperative I speak to your son about these dreams he has been having."

"Must you leave?" asked Jessica, almost pleading with her mentor to stay.

"Jessica," said the Reverend Mother, her voice softening. "I wish I could take your sufferings for you; but each of us have to make our path."

Jessica reluctantly nodded, saying then, "I know."

"Your as dear to me as if you were my own child, but I cannot let that interfere with duty. The Sisterhood can do nothing to prevent the coming conflict; though yet you and your son could survive," the old woman said. "Now, bring the lad in here. You know the importance, Jessica."

Jessica complied, approaching the door to the Meditation Chamber, opening it, then said, "Paul, you can come in now."

Paul ventured out, somewhat wary not only of the Reverend Mother, but also of his own mother. Nevertheless he approached the Reverend Mother, giving her nod which signalled he now gave her his respect. He sat down, as his mother closed the door behind her.

_The Reverend Mother's going to ask about my dreams_, Paul thought, knowing the matter to be obvious. It was too important an issue to remain unmentioned still.

"I think it is time we came to discuss these dreams you've been having, lad," the Reverend Mother said, fulfilling Paul's prediction. "Could you tell me about them?"

"What do you want to know?" Paul answered.

"Do you have them every night?"

"Not the ones worth remembering. Some are useful, some aren't. It varies."

"And how do you know whether a dream is worth remembering?" the Reverend Mother inquired.

"Sentiment," Paul replied. "Just a feeling or instinct I have about them. Somehow I just know when a dream's important."

"Interesting," the Reverend Mother noted. "Can you tell me what you dream of?"

"The future," Paul said. "Events that could come into existence, and which do so quite often. Many of them happen on Arrakis. In fact, there's a particular dream I have a lot…. yes, a dream about a girl who I'll know well. We're in this cavern, and there's water… a great pool of water by us."

"Do you talk to the girl?"

"Yes. She asks me to tell her of the waters of my homeworld - Usul, she calls it. Which is strange, as I haven't even heard of a world a called Usul."

"Perhaps she was calling _you_ Usul," Jessica then suggested.

"Perhaps," Paul nodded. "Still, I take her hand, then tell her a poem so she may understand. A tone poem Gurney Halleck uses for sad times. I have to explain some of the words to her though; like beach and surf, and seaweed and seagulls. This girl though; I'll have feelings for her. Strong feelings for her. Or at least, I would have done."

"You would have done?" the Reverend Mother asked, somewhat startled at the adolescent's last comment.

"Yes… though that future is still open," Paul said, thinking carefully. "But its possibility is decreasing by the day. Another possibility is opening up."

"A different girl?" Jessica asked.

"A different girl, yes," Paul answered. "And I've dreamt of her before, but until recently never in this way. The last few nights… well, the last few nights have been different than they were before. Things are changing. I still can shape my future, but more elements now are out of my control. This girl is but one new consequence of it."

"What can you tell us about the girl?" inquired the Reverend Mother, becoming ever more intrigued. What was this new future the boy was speaking of? Could he really be the Kwisatz Haderach?

"I can't remember that much. This being quite weird, as I've dreamt clearly of her before. She's beautiful though - yes, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. What's more though is that her significance is almost beyond reckoning. Everything _depends_ on us."

"Everything?" Jessica asked, utterly astonished.

"Everything in existence. In all universes."

"Kull Wahad!" Jessica cried.

"_All_ universes?" questioned the Reverend Mother, her mind almost unable to comprehend the sheer enormity of what had been suggested. "Lad, do you realise what you've just implied?"

"That there are other universes?" the boy said, not surprised at the two women's complete astonishment at what he'd said. "And that other forms of life exist within them? That's what I am suggesting. Indeed, last night I even dreamed of such life."

"So, that's what you meant by dreaming of something _more_ this time," Jessica realised, shock still encompassing her.

"There's a ship like no other existence now in our universe," said Paul, remembering the dream. "And the futures of the ship's crew and my own are now locked together. An encounter with them is inevitable. It cannot be avoided."

"There are aliens…_aliens_ in this universe?" Mohiam exclaimed, horror gripping her. Humanity had long since abandoned the prospect of other intelligent life; galaxies had been traversed, yet never had a sapient lifeform been encountered. "Who are they? How did they get here?"

"They traversed a gap between our universe and there own," Paul said, answering the old woman's second question. "As to who they are, I don't really know. Three of them are human like us. But the other two - well, there not just aliens… they're the same man. It seems ridiculous, doesn't it? How can two different people be the same person? But its true… they are one man."

After Paul had finished, there was a long pause, as both Jessica and the Reverend Mother attempted to come to terms with what the potential Kwisatz Haderach had said. Paul understood their concerns. For it was not just the realisation that there existed other sapient life which had shook them. It was also fear; fear of the threat extraterrestrial life posed to mankind.

It was known to be a flimsy excuse, but much of the reasoning behind House Atomics was as a safeguard against potential alien aggression. Extraterrestrials were considered naught but legend, but like that of ghosts, fear of them continued to persist. And war against them was a nightmare which haunted everyone from the Tleilaxu to the Guild. They were feared beyond anything else.

"I think it is time I were going, Jessica," the Reverend Mother eventually spoke, her attention upon her former pupil of the Bene Gesserit school. "I have much to discuss with the council on Wallach."

"If you're worried about the ship, then I think you should know they aren't here to harm us," Paul suddenly said, sensing the Reverend Mother's troubles. "I don't know why they're here, but it's not because they want to harm us."

"Perhaps," the old Bene Gesserit admitted, as she got up from her seat. "But it isn't necessarily them, lad. If you say there's a gap into their universe, then Great Mother help us from whatever could emerge from there. Of course, you could still be wrong about these aliens entirely. If you are not the Kwisatz Haderach, then these dreams could be mere illusion. But I prefer not to take any risk. This is not a thing to be trifled with; preparations have to be made."

She began to leave, but before she did so, she turned to Jessica, said, "You've trained the boy well, girl. And he could be the one we've so longed for. Still, I'd advise you to ignore the regular order of his training, and to move onto the Voice. He has a good start in it, but we both know how much more he needs. His own safety requires it if he is to survive the coming events." She turned to Paul. "Goodbye, young human. I hope you are the one we seek. Nevertheless, let us hope you are wrong about the extraterrestrials… for all our sakes. May we meet again, lad. And in better times I do hope."

She left the room, not giving a backwards glance to the boy and mother on her way out. Her face could not be seen by the two, but if he had been then the Reverend Mother's worry would have been totally evident. She had come to test the boy; learn whether there was any possibility he was the Kwisatz Haderach. She had carried out her task, but now left with the knowledge that the approaching future was more complex than she could have ever conceived. If these aliens existed (even presuming their intentions were pure), then the stability held within the Empire could come crashing down. And this made her so very afraid.

Paul meanwhile sat in silence, considering the events that had occurred on the day. So much had happened. But, he felt as if so much more would yet occur before this day was out. Soon, somehow, he knew that he would meet with one of the crew of that strange alien ship. An encounter was certain.

And he was right.

**Castle Caladan**

There was a click, followed by the metal side door opening, revealing the fully lit passage which lead underneath the castle. The Second Doctor entered, putting away the sonic screwdriver, then closing the small metal door behind him. The side entrance had been located under a rocky outcrop, which made up much of the castle's hill. Left unguarded, its use was clearly for purposes that could not be considered official. And it proved a good way in which the Doctor could enter the castle without being noticed.

The Doctor travelled down the passageway, eventually coming to a point where columns and marble walls began to appear on either side. The route too got higher, until at last he reached a large chamber full of crates. Some of the crates were open, showing them to contain all kinds of different goods (including even that of an expensive looking sculpture, which he managed to place to be from early medieval Byzantium). Crossing the chamber, the Doctor went through a smaller room until he came to several flights of stairs. He climbed them to the very top, then coming to a large pair of well carved wooden doors. They were locked, but this wasn't much of a problem for the Doctor when he had his screwdriver at hand. Unlocking the doors, they opened outward to reveal a tall long corridor. Closing the doors once again, the Doctor looked around, recognising the expense that must have been put into the corridor. Though certainly not as impressive as the Temple of Psyche, it was certainly a well decorated hall, with finely crafted arches and a long line of sculptures which lead down to where the corridor went to the left.

_Needless to say, much wealth is clearly owned by whoever has control of this castle_, the Doctor thought. _They must also have a great deal of influence on this planet. Perhaps even influence beyond this planet. It's certainly possible that with some careful persuasion they could help me find the Brigadier's parents._

Venturing down the corridor, the Time Lord suddenly stopped. He distantly heard the sound of voices; voices that seemed to be getting closer and closer. Quickly ducking behind a statue of a griffin, he peeped out behind the sculpture, careful not to be noticed. He still did not yet wish to reveal himself; not until he could got further inside, showing the ease in which he could circumvent the castle's defences. He needed to have the landowner have much interest in him if he was to convince him to help.

The voices continued to grow the louder, until at last the Doctor was able to pick out two guards approaching down the corridor. They were dressed in red and black uniforms, with berets upon their heads. Most puzzling however was their choice of armament; just knives instead of firearms or blasters.

"-the question is what that Bene Gesserit witch is doing here," said the taller, more tanned of the two guards. "I don't mind the Duke's concubine, but the rest of them give me the creeps. That Mohiam especially… the stories I've heard about her."

"I know," the other one agreed, as the two got closer. "She's a Truthsayer though, isn't she? The Emperor's Truthsayer. Would be impossible to keep a secret from her."

"I manage it would impossible to keep a secret from _any_ of them," the taller one pointed out. "Anyway, onto less grim matters. Think about it; in a week's time we'll all be churning out more Solari than we can count. Fifty percent pay increase for the Corps once we're on Arrakis. Imagine the spice beer, the women we can get with that."

"I doubt we'll live long enough to spend any Solari," the second guard said grimly, as the two passed by the Doctor, not seeing he was hiding behind the statue. "Arrakis is a real shitstorm. A real fucking shitstorm. Do you know the amount of casualties the Harkonnens were taking per year?"

"But those are Harkonnnen grunts, John," said the first one, far more optimistic than his counterpart. "They aren't even capable of logical thought, let alone being cut out for combat. Besides the Duke's got a plan with the Fremen, remember?"

"So we hear, so we hear," remarked the guard who was seemingly called John. Suddenly the two of them stopped, looked carefully round before John said, "Nah, nothing here. Let's get back upstairs."

The two of them turned around, continuing their conversation (which had now somehow drifted entirely onto oral sex), passing the Doctor once more. Once they had gone further enough down the corridor, the Doctor came out from behind the griffin statue, feeling now safe enough to continue his journey. And confident enough he wouldn't be detected, he decided to follow the guards into the higher levels of the castle.

**Grand Palace of the Imperium, Kaitain**

If anybody had been the library, then the TARDIS would have undoubtedly been noticed. The ancient vessel's wheezing and groaning could be heard across the vast room, and the slowly forming appearance of the blue police box would hardly be missed.

"Ah, yes!" the Tenth Doctor cheerily shouted, upon exiting the time machine. "Here we are! An inhabited human planet! See, got us here like a said I would, McCrimmon."

"Doesn't look very inhabited to me," said Jamie, following the Doctor out of the TARDIS, before taking sight of the large room. "Tell me again, how did you find out this was a human planet, Doctor?"

"Oh simple really," the Doctor replied. "Monitored transmissions of the nearest inhabited planet. Found a strange mixture of English and Russian. Now unless-"

"But, hang on, Doctor," Jamie said, cutting the Time Lord off. He approached one of the tall bookcases to the right, examining a volume. "All these books are written in English. See," he said, throwing the book at the Doctor. "If yah say the people hear speak a bit of English and Russian, then why are the books all in English?"

"Well aside from the fact that all the books in this library could just so happen to be written in English," the Doctor said, before taking a glance at the book's cover. "That would be the translation software in effect."

"Translation software?" Jamie asked, puzzled.

"What?" said the Doctor in surprise. "Didn't my past self explain it? You know, about the translation circuit and how it works?"

Jamie slowly shook his head.

"Nah, never said to me about any translation circuits, software or anything like that."

"No, I didn't did I?" the Doctor remembered. "Well, Jamie, the translation circuit is a component of the TARDIS, which through a telepathic field helps translate languages that a human such as yourself wouldn't otherwise be able to understand. Never wondered how you could understand the Dulcians? Or the Gonds? Or-"

"I assumed they just spoke English."

"_Well_, to be fair some races do, though obviously not as a main language. English is only ever mainly spoke by the Human race; though actually, some Time Lords do speak it quite a bit. Like me. Still," the Doctor said, putting the book back on its shelf, "let's have a look around shall we, Jamie."

"Perhaps, y'know, we could take a look a few of the books first, Doctor?" Jamie suggested. "We might learn something useful here."

"Yeah, later. Let's do the most interesting thing though, first. Find out where we've landed."

"Well, we know we're in a library now, Doctor," Jamie replied.

"Not a public library though," the Doctor answered. He pointed to the large stain glass windows, where the sunlight penetrated the room. "Midday. Awfully quiet for that time isn't it? No, this is a private library. So I'd probably say were in some palace."

"Aye."

"Well then, come along, Jamie," the Doctor said, wanting to get the exploration going.

The two of them walked down aisle, treading on the long red carpet which lead to the other side of the library room. Suddenly however, after a half a minute Jamie asked, "But what about the Master?"

"What about him?" the Doctor sternly replied, his manner becoming much more serious.

"What are we gonna' do about him?" Jamie asked again, clearly worried.

Jamie's fears were certainly not without grounds. The Master had been dematerialised after all, meaning he was now free to go about murdering and eating anybody he so chose. And to add to their troubles, neither the Doctor or Jamie had a clue to where he was.

"Like Alistair and the others," the Doctor said, "there's not much we can do now."

"I don't know much about him, Doctor," Jamie said, ever concerned. "But he's going to bring chaos wherever he's gone."

"True, but what can we do about it?" the Doctor questioned the Highlander. "He'd be even harder to find than the others. The only thing we can do is hope he doesn't cause too much damage. And you'd think that even in the state he's in, that he'd realise it be foolish to try and impede us. The last thing he wants is for the Multiverse to be ravaged by the Daleks."

Jamie nodded.

"Aye. It's just worrying to think about what he could be doing now, Doctor."

"I know, Jamie. I know," the Doctor grimly agreed. "But unfortunately there's just nothing we can do for now."

They continued their journey in silence, until they came to large wooden double-doors where the carpet ended. After unlocking the doors with the screwdriver, they opened to reveal a corridor.

"Now what?" Jamie asked.

"We need to get close to a balcony or a window with a good view," the Doctor answered, before carefully closing the double-doors behind him. "Would give us some idea where we've actually landed, not to mention we might get some scale of how big this place is."

They went left down the corridor, slowly and quietly, not wanting to make their presence known to the building's occupants. Passing empty rooms and passageways, they came to another corridor which lay ahead. Turning left through an open doorway, they came outside, finding themselves in a orange grove, which overlooked the landscape to its right. Leaning over the ramparts, the Doctor and Jamie looked upon the beautiful countryside before them.

The outside view revealed that the Doctor had indeed been right. They were in a palace; a tremendously large palace. They were about two and half thousand feet in the air; and looking behind him, the Doctor could see that another section of wall (behind the grove) extended for another thousand feet. Though so immense in the size was the palace, it was hard to tell how truly big it was.

Beneath the two of them, waterfalls cascaded from open sections of the wall, the water falling into the large pool below. At the pool's far end, a river ran out of it, bending deep into the tropical rainforest which extended far beyond the horizon.

"Doctor," Jamie began to say. "This place, it's-"

"Seemingly paradise isn't it?" the Doctor said. He paused for a moment, before he said, "Well Jamie, I think it would be understatement to say that whoever owns this enormity of a palace, has quite a bit of wealth don't you?"

"Aye. More than a bit of wealth, certainly Doctor."

"With wealth comes power. And with considerable wealth comes considerable power," the Doctor said, looking out upon the landscape once more. "So the person who owns this place has political influence which extends well beyond this planet."

"And?"

"And this person could be of some use to when finding Alistair's parents," the Doctor answered, turning his gaze back to the Highlander. "But, no. It's best we just leave thinking about it. With the TARDIS we have too much to lose. We'll grab a few books and leave for the nearest major settlement."

"So we came out here for nothing?" Jamie questioned, feeling their risky escapade had now been pointless.

"I wanted to find out where we landed. Now I do," the Doctor said, walking away from the ramparts. "So let's go then, McCrimmon."

Jamie however just stood for a moment, the Doctor having gone through the doorway they had only entered just a minute ago. Sighing to himself, Jamie walked towards the door. Before he could get there however the Doctor came sprinting through as fast he could.

"What?" cried Jamie, taken utterly by surprise.

"On second thought," the Doctor answered, briefly stopping, before grabbing Jamie's arm. "Let's go this way instead."

"Doctor, what-"

But before he could finish, his sentence was cut off by the thud of a throwing knife hitting the door.

"RUN! JAMIE, RUN!" the Doctor shouted, dragging Jamie by the arm, before the two of them sprinted off through the grove.


	14. Captured

"_It was that moment I think… that the future of Alistair's universe had already been forever changed."_

_- "Ascendancy" by RSM John Benton_

**Castle Caladan, Caladan - 10,191 AG**

On their tail, the Second Doctor followed the two guards round the corner, onto another statue lined corridor. A few minutes later he tracked them all the way to an elevator at the corridor's end, in which the two guards entered, departing to the higher levels of the castle. The Doctor approached the elevator, and waited another few minutes before summoning the elevator himself. Eventually the doors opened, before he entered and set the elevator's course several floors up.

When he arrived, he wasn't really surprised to come upon the sight of several armed guards before him; dartguns aimed directly at him. He sighed, realising what was now to come. A single dart struck him squarely on the chest; briefly he stumbled, before he then collapsed into unconsciousness.

**Grand Palace of the Imperium, Kaitain**

"RUN! JAMIE, RUN!" the Doctor shouted, dragging Jamie by the arm, before the two of them sprinted off through the grove. They passed tree after tree as they ran as fast their legs could take them.

Suddenly however, a red beam struck out from behind them, hitting a nearby tree. It was essentially reduced to charcoal, as it blew into smithereens, its charred fragments being dispersed all around them.

"RUN! RUN!" the Doctor cried again, as the use of powerful weaponry only served to increase his panic.

Another beam then shot past, setting a number of trees aflame, before a third beam narrowly missed them; causing further destruction to the grove. Luckily however, the Doctor and Jamie came at last upon the grove's other side, entering a doorway through which they came onto a corridor. They sprinted down it, before the extremely loud cries of a siren went off.

"Oh, fantastic!" the Doctor shouted, his remark writhed in sarcasm. "More of them! That's all we need!"

"Aye!" Jamie agreed, continuing to run as he did so. "But, what we're to do now, Doctor?"

"Isn't it obvious, McCrimmon?" the Doctor cried, making his frustration utterly clear. "We're going to trying to get back to the TARDIS! That is if we can find our way back without managing to get disintegrated or dismembered first!"

The two time travellers sped down corridor after corridor, trying to go somewhat in the direction back to the library where the TARDIS had materialised. They came then to a large room crafted out of marble, to which they turned left towards an open doorway that lead onto another corridor. Moments later however, a set of doors behind them slammed open; and glancing back briefly, the Doctor and Jamie saw their pursuers enter the room.

There were twelve of them, dressed in blue uniforms complete with light armour and berets. Not stopping, they chased after the two time travellers, who had by now reached the door. The Doctor and Jamie turned right, then left, before then turning left again down yet another corridor. Their constant changes of direction however certainly did not put off the pursuing guards, who much to their dismay were starting to catch up on them. Fortunately though, the Doctor soon recognised they were on the same corridor which lead to the library; they could yet reach the TARDIS in time.

"To the left, Jamie!" the Doctor yelled, as they approached the library's entrance. "To the left!"

Pulling out the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor used it almost as a remote control, opening the entrance doors from several yards away, before he and Jamie ran through into the vast library. It seemed the two of them were safe… or so they thought.

"Doctor!" cried Jamie, spotting the trouble ahead. "There's more of them!"

And he was right. At least two dozen guards had entered in from the other side of the library, and were currently making their way towards them; the TARDIS barely any further from them than the Time Lord and his old companion.

"We have to get to the TARDIS before them!" the Doctor shouted, in more urgency than even before. "Quick, Jamie! We've got to get there quick!"

So they ran, and ran; pushing their bodies to their very limits. Even the Doctor, with his respiratory bypass system, barely possessed any more stamina. Exhaustion was inevitable for the two time travellers, but this would be an acceptable inconvenience if they made back to the TARDIS.

"Doctor!" Jamie suddenly cried, gasping as he did so. "I think- I think we're gonna make it."

Indeed, they were nearly upon the TARDIS, though both the pursuing and approaching groups of troops had gained ground on them. Nevertheless, the familiar blue police box was less than fifty feet away, which gave both men hope the TARDIS could be reached in time.

Unfortunately for them, they did not.

The Doctor clicked his fingers, unlocking the TARDIS doors. But as he did so a strange abrupt numbness hit Jamie's left leg, staggering his run, until his balance finally gave way, causing him to crash down onto the floor.

"Jamie!" shouted the Doctor, bringing himself to a halt, then turning to look upon his floored companion. Jamie was holding his leg, a tranquiliser dart just about visible in his knee. He tried to speak, but his words were being slurred under the effect of the agent which was now within his bloodstream.

_Oh dear. Oh no_, the Doctor thought, knowing there wasn't any chance of Jamie getting up from the floor by his own volition. _Now were stuck._

Knowing their capture was inevitable, the Doctor realised that he had to lock the TARDIS. Matters would be made far worse if the unknown occupants of the palace had access to her. It was just a simple matter of clicking his fingers again. But it was a simple matter he failed to achieve, as a dart then suddenly struck his stomach. Taking him by surprise, he then almost comically collapsed to the ground, as the blue uniformed guards began to circle around him and Jamie.

Disorientated, the Tenth Doctor found himself rapidly losing consciousness; thoughts becoming unclear, not even occurring to him just how vulnerable the TARDIS now was. Suddenly and briefly he remembered, and tried to click his fingers. He barely even managed to move one.

It was then he saw that a guard was above him, eyes staring down onto him. He was tall, flat faced, with a pale scar across half his left cheek; but it was those staring eyes the Doctor found most distinctive. They possessed a glare, a glare that marked what he was. The Time Lord knew that look all too well; the man was a killer.

Captain Aramsham of the Imperial Sardaukar smiled, looking down upon the strange intruder, who was now slipping unconscious as the drug took full effect. A million questions gnawed at his mind, but they were overcome by the pride he now felt. A danger had been taken care of, he'd served the Emperor well.

_And a danger he and his companion certainly are_, Aramsham thought, still looking upon the strange man. _Intruding into the Imperial Palace gives a way one's intentions as far from pure._

"Captain."

The Sardaukar Captain turned, saw one of his lieutenant's approach.

"What is it?"

"Sir, the spies were heading towards that… that box," the Lieutenant said almost fearfully, pointing ahead of him.

The Captain brought his gaze forward, eyes coming towards the strange blue cuboid that stood barely a few feet away. The Lieutenant's fears certainly weren't ungrounded. There was something bizarrely disturbing about the object. Something that he could not fathom.

"What can it be, Sir?" the Lieutenant asked.

"An object from Ancient Terra?" Aramsham suggested. "I think I need to take a closer look."

The Captain approached the bizarre box, exceedingly curious to know what the thing was. What actually was it? Why had the two intruders treated it of such importance?

_We had them covered in both directions. They were trapped, yet they still ran towards the object_, Captain Aramsham realised. _Was it mere desperately? Or did they believe it could somehow aid their plight?_

Aramsham reached the object, began studying it, noticing the sign on the door. Some of the words were in Galach, though most were unintelligible to him. Nonetheless, he felt he had good idea as to what language that sign was…

_English._

That language had not had major significance since before even the Great Convention was signed. Indeed, there were only but a few in the far out regions of the Imperium who mainly spoke it. And nor did Aramsham know of anyone but the Princess Royal who could actually speak it. It was just yet more evidence that there was something abnormal about the bizarre cuboid; and that whatever it was, it had been massively important to the intruders.

Despite these considerations however, Aramsham had no possible idea what was in store for him.

His curiosity having grown further, he slowly began to push open the door. And a mere instant later, Captain Aramsham of the Imperial Sardaukar was directly confronted with the most shocking thing he had ever encountered in his life.


	15. Before the Emperor

"_I've seen it go wrong; I know what horrors can happen. Misuse of time travel could destroy your universe, and I cannot let you make such a mistake."_

_-The Doctor_

**Grand Palace of the Imperium, Kaitain – 10,191 AG**

Awakening from his slumber, Jamie McCrimmon slowly began to open his eyelids, and saw at first nothing but whiteness. But he soon realised that this was no illusion, and that not only the walls, but also the entirety of the room was so brightly white that it looked almost opaque. The former Jacobite soldier now found himself chained at his wrists to the black steel chair which he was now involuntarily restrained to. A table and chair of polished glass were before him, and looking left found a conscious Doctor smiling at him; who like him, was also handcuffed to his own chair.

"McCrimmon. Awake at last I see," the Time Lord commented.

"What- where are we, Doctor?" Jamie asked, still feeling slightly groggy.

"In a interrogation room clearly," the Tenth Doctor replied, briefly glancing across the room. "But where exactly we are being held in the palace, who knows where."

"So, yah still think were in the palace?"

"Undoubtedly," said the Doctor. "Why move us out when there is more than enough space right here? This place is large enough for ten prisons, a hotel, a gift shop, a Govarian feasthouse, Pairazkialanifonatian stadium of _delight_ and two-dozen fish and chip shops. And still, after all that there'd be enough room for royal apartments several times larger than Balmoral Castle."

"Aye, I see, Doctor," Jamie said, nodding his head. "But, y' know, yah do realise this is entirely your fault?"

"And what exactly am I at fault for, McCrimmon?" the Doctor questioned his companion, very much displeased at the accusation.

"For getting us locked up in this wretched cell, that's what!" Jamie cried. "You had to have the two of us go wandering round this place, just so yah could satisfy your curiosity about where'd we landed. And look where that's got us!"

"It was essential to know where we were, McCrimmon," the Doctor said. "Besides, don't you think we have bigger problems right now than deciding who's to blame for this? The TARDIS was unlocked when we were captured, and our captors have very probably found something very unexpected and astonishing through her doors."

"The TARDIS was left open?" Jamie questioned the Doctor, fearful with the knowledge that those blue uniformed guards had access to the tremendously advanced (though often unreliable) time machine.

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Jamie," the Time Lord answered rather gravely. "Fortunately our _'guests'_ haven't the faintest idea of determining her secrets. Unfortunately however, they no doubt will then turn to us for answers; and the methods they may resort to get them out of us hardly bring pleasure to my mind."

"Well then, were gonna' have to escape, aren't we, Doctor?" Jamie said, hopeful they could find a way out of their captors' grasp.

"Indeed, but as you can obviously realise, Jamie, it won't be while were restrained to these chairs," the Doctor pointed out to the Highlander. "If only I could get to the screwdriver," he added, pulling against the restraints, "…. damn these accursed handcuffs."

At that moment however, the two time travellers were interrupted by a sudden beep and then the sound of a door behind them electronically moving open to one side. Unable turn to their heads, the Doctor and Jamie only heard the sounds of boots at first, but then three of their captors soon emerged out from behind them. All three were clearly soldiers, and two wore the same blue uniforms of the guards that had chased them earlier. Like them too they were both tall and heavily built, and held two large cumbersome looking guns. The third man however was clearly of the rank of an officer, wearing a heavily decorated black gold-trimmed uniform, with a purple sash across the front. His hair and eyes were dark brown, and like his comrades was also tall and heavily built, though obviously appeared more refined than the two grunts. Taking a seat, the officer placed a brown folder on the glass table, while the other two soldiers stood behind him, their eyes fixed upon the door.

"Afternoon gentlemen," the officer said, while opening the folder. "I assume the two of you know why you're here? Good, in that case-"

"Ummmm no, afraid not," said the Doctor, interrupting the soldier. "The two of us are entirely ignorant as to why were being held. Mind filling us in with what you're charging with, aye?"

"Oh, I think you know fully well what you've done," the officer said, grinning evilly at the Time Lord. "Trespass for one; on an Imperial property too I may add. And then there's the fact that your very presence here violates the Great Convention to a truly remarkable degree."

"Our _presence_ here?" the Doctor questioned with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, um-?"

"Oh, Burseg Calis Sharkham, Imperial Sardaukar," the officer said, introducing himself.

"Yes, Burseg Sharkam. Sorry, it's just I can't help be but confused by what you mean by our _presence_," the Doctor informed the officer. "To a person ignorant of your laws, such as myself, I have to say it's all quite a bit vague."

"Really? I thought that charge would be even more obvious than your trespassing," Sharkam commented, once again with that evil smirk. "Still, perhaps you should take a look at this. It might make things a bit clearer for you."

He threw the brown folder across the table, which was still left open on its first page.

"It would help if you took these cuffs of," the Time Lord complained, lifting his left hand as far the restraints allowed. "I can't take a closer look at those files unless I can actually use my hands."

The Burseg turned round, nodded at one of the guards. The soldier complied, approaching the Doctor and unlocking both handcuffs with a square shaped key, before returning to where he originally stood.

"Now that you're free of your restraints, I take there is no need to remind you not do anything that you may regret?" the Burseg asked the Time Lord.

"Oh, no need at all, my good Burseg," the Doctor said cheerily, picking up the file. "And I have to say, you're not as humourless as the usual military type. I like that, yes I do. Like that a lot."

He examined the file, and noticed instantly the picture on the first page. Realising its significance, the Doctor chuckled, now knowing what the Burseg meant by their _presence_. For the picture was a sophisticated projectional scan of the Time Lord's own chest, revealing a significant feature of Gallifreyan physiology; the respiratory bypass system, that possessed two hearts instead of merely one. What the Burseg implied was that his human civilization had never even encountered alien life, despite it being around twenty thousand years in the future to the humans of the Doctor's own universe. And in their ignorance of such life, they had greatly come to fear it.

_Fantastic. Now this makes things so much easier_, the Doctor sarcastically thought. _As if things couldn't get any harder. Still, twenty thousand years, and they have never encountered other sapient life in the universe? That is strange. That is certainly very strange._

"Recognise anything?" the Burseg asked.

"Yes, I'd say it's quite familiar," the tenth incarnation of the Doctor replied, placing the folder down. "The respiratory bypass system of a Time Lord; but it's the two hearts that are the most distinctive thing about it, isn't it?"

"The picture illustrates a point," the Burseg began, leaning slightly forward in his chair. "There are as it happens stranger mutations found within the Imperium, among things that still may be regarded as human. Nevertheless, the point remains; a point proven through the astonishing DNA sample we took from you when you where unconscious."

"And your point is?"

"That you my friend, are a form of life that cannot be traced back to Ancient Terra," the Burseg stated. "You are an extraterrestrial."

The Doctor laughed.

"So that's what I'm being charged for, is it?" he questioned. "Xenophobia is rife among your race isn't it, Burseg? And I suppose my TARDIS has managed to frighten you even more."

"What are you doing within the Imperium?" Sharkam asked, his tone growing more severe. "And how is it you are an accompanied by this human?" he added, glancing at Jamie.

"This human?" Jamie said, offended at the officer's question. "Oh, how very polite of you! Lucky yah have me these restraints, or I'd show what someone of the McCrimmon clan can do!"

"Do not be a fool, boy," the Burseg said. "You would last but a few a seconds against the very lowest of the Sardaukar."

"I'll be the judge of that!"

"Jamie, enough," the Doctor said, trying to quiet his companion down. He then turned his attention back to the Burseg, as the sound of boots could be heard through the open doorway. "So, you want to know what we're doing here, do you?"

Burseg Sharkam was about to answer, but before he could a soldier carrying a message cylinder arrived at the door, then stood at attention.

"Sir."

"At ease, Captain," the Burseg ordered. "What is it that you have for me?"

"New orders from the Grand Bashar, Sir."

"New orders? Very well, hand them over to me," Sharkam commanded the inferior officer. The soldier complied, approaching the Burseg and handing the message cylinder over to the Sardaukar commander. Sharkam unrolled the cylinder, then examined it and rolled it up once he had finished reading the message.

"Change of plan it seems," the Burseg said, directing his words at the Doctor and Jamie. "I have orders to escort you to the Imperial Audience Chamber immediately."

"Imperial Audience Chamber?" Jamie questioned. "Who we meeting there?"

The Burseg however ignored him; instead turned to the soldiers behind him, told them, "Remove the restraints from the young one, so he may get out of the chair. Then restrain both of them once more."

The two men obeyed, removing the handcuffs from Jamie. He and the Doctor then stood up, allowing the soldiers to cuff their arms behind their backs, sensibly knowing that resistance against the four armed Sardaukar men would prove useless in the circumstances.

The soldiers then escorted the two time travellers out of the room and down the corridor, which was equally white as the interrogation room had been. They eventually arrived at an elevator, which then ascended, at what the Doctor counted as being fifty-two floors up; another sign of just how large the palace was.

Exiting the lift, the Doctor and Jamie found themselves emerge onto a large beautifully decorated corridor, with expensive red and gold carpet lining a marble floor, while various artworks were displayed across the walls. The Sardaukar urged the two time travellers left down the long corridor, as the Doctor recognised some of the displayed art; known treasures from the Earth of this universe's past. The Cartoons of Raphael, Dali's the Persistence of Memory, Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring, Da Vinci's the Annunciation and his Lady with an Ermine, were just few of the artistic treasures the Doctor knew, and the Time Lord recognised them as further proof of the power the palace's owner possessed.

_Artistic treasures that any collector would yearn to have_, he thought, as he begun to form an idea of whom the magnificent residence belonged to. _A gigantic palace that exceeds three and a half thousand feet in height. Imperial Sardaukar. The Imperial Audience Chamber. An Imperial property. The Imperium. A human empire clearly exists, ruled over clearly by an emperor or empress; and whoever that ruler may be has ownership over this palace._

It was obvious to the Tenth Doctor that he and Jamie were now to meet this person, and while he felt pleased that they were now meeting someone who possessed the influence to greatly aid their mission, the Doctor fearfully knew of the thing that they would demand from him. It was essential that the secrets of the TARDIS remained as hidden as they could be, but it was clear that he would have to grant something in return for the ruler's help. Or seem to grant something, anyway.

Nevertheless, the secret of time travel must remain hidden from them. In this universe, such an ability unregulated would lead to untold devastation, and much more so in the manner of Gallifreyan technology. That must not happen.

The group approached the end of the corridor, where a twenty-foot high double-door made of silver stood; several soldiers waiting there, clearly for the two captives who were of such importance that the Imperium's ruler demanded their presence. Among the soldiers stood an officer; one who wore an extravagant bronze and gold uniform that indicated that he was very high in rank indeed. He was a tall, blocky man, with a square face and greying brown hair. And the Doctor wondered to himself whether this was the Grand Bashar from whom the Burseg had received his orders.

"Burseg," the bronze and gold uniformed officer said, acknowledging Burseg Sharkam, as the approaching group arrived at the doors.

"Sir," the Burseg answered. "As you can see, I have brought the prisoners to you as instructed."

"Very good," the superior officer stated. "Now release them of their bonds. I'll take things from here, Burseg."

Sharkam did as he was asked, nodding to two of his men; they complied, unlocking the Doctor and Jamie's handcuffs. The Time Lord was deeply relieved to be rid of them, but he knew full well that he was yet far from freedom. The surrounding Imperial Sardaukar made sure of that.

"Thank you," the seeming Bashar said, after the two time travellers were released. "You may go now, Sharkam."

The Burseg complied without a hint of protest, and departed with his men back down the corridor. The remaining officer meanwhile turned his attention to the two prisoners, who had been silently encircled by his troops to prevent escape.

"I trust Sharkam has made it clear as to why you're here?" he asked the Doctor.

"Oh, he made clear to us precisely what we had done wrong," the Doctor informed him, displeasure evident. "But he told us nothing in regards to this summoning here."

"Inappropriate," the officer commented, "but still it can easily be corrected. You are here because the Padishah Emperor has demanded your presence before him; to explain your intentions within the Imperium, among other matters."

"Yes, other matters which no doubt include my TARDIS," said the Doctor, angry at the thought this Emperor would demand to know all he could in regards to the ship.

"If you are referring to that incredibly alarming ship you have, then yes," the officer replied. "That machine caused a seasoned Sardaukar officer to faint once he saw what was inside it. And having seen it for myself, well… that thing, it's impossible. It should not exist."

"Yet it does," the Doctor said, with a slight trace of contempt. "And impossible may it seem, that is only because it is technology of a race far beyond, and ever will be beyond, your understanding. Absolutely no offence, of course."

"Maybe so, but my role is not to understand your technology, um-?"

"The Doctor," the Time Lord answered, "and my companion here is Jamie McCrimmon," he added, indicating the Highlander.

"Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor. That's my name."

"Considering the situation, I suppose your name makes sense," the high-ranking officer commented. "Very well then, perhaps it is appropriate if I introduce myself now. I am Grand Bashar Larias Tyekanik, Chief of the Military Staff."

"Thank you, Grand Bashar," the Doctor said, though hardly earnest in what would normally be a considered a polite comment. "And what is it that you were saying before again, hmmm?"

"I am an officer of the Imperial Sardaukar," Tyekanik said. "It is my duty to perform the functions that are so required by my Emperor. And working out any technology you may possess is not one of them. But enough with this… we should not keep the Emperor waiting any further. You will come with me now; the both of you."

"But, who exactly is this Emperor?" Jamie suddenly asked. "I mean, me and the Doctor know nothing about him at all."

"He is the Emperor Shaddam IV, ruler of the Imperium, as dictated by the Great Convention," the Bashar told him. "That is all you require to know for now. It is time we entered the audience chamber."

With that said, the Grand Bashar turned and made a hand signal at the large doors before him; gracefully they opened, and the two time travellers were ushered quickly through into the Imperial Audience Chamber. It was a spectacularly large room, with the ceiling exceeding well over hundred feet, and the far end of the chamber at least several minutes walk away; distant figures who stood there barely visible. Above were extremely well crafted arches containing glittering gems, while purple flags with the insignia of a golden enraged lion hung from the walls. Soon the Sardaukar urged Jamie and the Doctor forward, the soldiers determined not to keep the Imperium's ruler waiting much longer for the two captives.

The long walk across the audience chamber seemed to take hours, and eventually the group passed a point where large windows started to appear on either side of the walls; windows that overlooked the vast tropical rainforest thousands of feet below. Continuing onwards, the Doctor and Jamie were now not far from the waiting figures they had spotted earlier, and unlike before they could clearly make out their appearances. Most of them soldiers; on guard Sardaukar, who stood close by an enormous, magnificent throne. There were however three exceptions.

Stood right of the throne, was a small, weak, weaselish looking man with overlarge dark eyes. His short hair was greying at the temples, and he was dressed in fine purple robes that suggested a man of wealth. Despite his expensive garments however, his appearance suggested a weak unthreatening individual, but the Doctor knew better than that. The man held a look, a look that one could easy miss, but a look that greatly alarmed the Time Lord. His eyes possessed that same glare one could see in the Sardaukar, though he seemed to be more dangerous than every single one of them. He was an assassin, but above all else he was a murderer. The second exception was to the man's left, and was a woman who was of a far more appealing appearance. She was golden haired and willowy, with grey-green eyes, and who wore a blue gown that showed off her wonderful figure; a beautiful woman without question. Right hand linked with the weaselish faced man; their manner suggested the two of them were a couple.

And then there was the third exception, the man who was clearly the Padishah Emperor himself. Eyes gazing upon the still travelling group, he was seated on a throne that was utterly splendid. Made of a blue-green translucent stone shot through with streaks of yellow fire, the Doctor recognised it as being carved of Hagalian Quartz; a mineral that held greater value than Pazzarikon diamonds, and even Jethrik. Seated on a throne that a many ruler could only wish for, the Emperor was himself an impressive figure. He was tall and slim, red haired, bearded and possessed a thin, attractive face with an aquiline nose. Dressed in a black Sardaukar uniform of gold and silver trim, the man's cold eyes fell then directly upon the Doctor himself. Almost out of instinct, and from that somewhat disturbing stare now upon him, the Time Lord felt that this was a ruler who would not yield until he had what he wanted from his two captives. The secrets of the TARDIS itself.

"I am Shaddam Corrino IV," the Imperium's ruler began, just after the Grand Bashar had halted the group before the great throne. "Head of Royal House Corrino, and 81st Padishah Emperor of the Known Universe."

**Foothills of the Arbarian Mountains, Delmatia, Vermalia**

He had no idea where he was, and not the faintest idea of what had happened on his unexpected journey to this distant world.

Nevertheless, elevating himself up off the ground, Captain Lethbridge-Stewart knew himself to be in a place in which the cold held dominance. The freezing temperature, and deep snow that covered the ground as far as the eye could see, gave him more enough to establish such a deduction. Perhaps he was on a world where the ice permanently ruled, or a part of a planet where it ruled permanently, or perhaps in a mere winter season. Regardless, it was still bloody freezing.

Seeing he currently stood on high ground, the foothills of a mountain range that were before him, Gordon pulled out a compass and saw that those nearby mountains were to the north. And by his very movements and the fact that he even breathed, he also knew that he was on a planet with gravity and an atmosphere very much like that of Earth's. Taking out a pair of military issue binoculars, the Captain then scanned the scenery, looking for any sign of settlement. To the southeast, he noticed a large building complex that was adjacent to a tarmac road where the snow had not settled. Making his decision, the Captain set off for the building, though brought up his MP5 submachine gun, wary of whatever was lurking in the alien foothills.

Gordon was elated in that he had now set foot on his first alien planet, but this feeling of excitement was outweighed by two concerns that troubled him greatly. For one, there was the matter of his sudden dematerialisation from the TARDIS, meaning that he had not a clue where his grandfather and the others now were. He knew that his granddad and the Doctor's second incarnation had too been dematerialised, and prayed to God that both of them had been fortunate to have found themselves somewhere as habitable as he now was. Hopefully, and quite possibly, the two of them may have materialised on this very world, or maybe even someplace around the mountain range that lay close to the Captain's position. The Tenth Doctor and Jamie also still had the TARDIS, and surely would find a way to track their three missing companions down. But the fact remained that at the present moment, Captain Lethbridge-Stewart had no idea where the others were.

Then there was the second concern. He required help from whoever inhabited the building complex, but who were they exactly? Were they human? Were they even vaguely human? Of course, Gordon knew that his grandfather came from a distant world to Earth, but that did not mean the planet the UNIT captain had found himself on was populated by the human race. The issue of concern however, was whether the indigenous population were friendly, and that again was something the Captain had to admit his ignorance of. Nevertheless, he had no choice but to seek out their help, lest he wished for exposure or starvation to end him. And if they were hostile, well, he was handily equipped with enough ammunition to last him for some time.

Suddenly then, he abruptly felt a disturbing premonition, so very familiar to the dreams he had had of that accursed desert world. He looked behind him, felt as if the terrible sensation was somehow originating to the northwest, where the mountains rose increasingly higher and higher. Deep under those mountains there was something. Something that should never see the light of day.

_But_, he thought utterly unnerved, _I have a feeling it soon will._

**Grand Palace of the Imperium, Kaitain**

"I am Shaddam Corrino IV," the Imperium's ruler began, just after the Grand Bashar had halted the group before the great throne. "Head of Royal House Corrino, and 81st Padishah Emperor of the Known Universe."

"How do you do," the Doctor said in response, before putting an arm round Jamie. "This is my good friend, Jamie McCrimmon. And as for me, well… I'm the Doctor. Hello!"

"You are to refer the Padishah Emperor with respect," the Grand Bashar informed the manic Time Lord. "You may address him as 'Your Majesty', 'Your Highness', 'Sire', 'Your Grace'-"

"Tyek, enough," the Emperor said, cutting off the Bashar. "These _people_, or the Doctor at the very least, are new to our ways. Reservations must be made for now."

"Majesty-"

"I said enough," Shaddam IV told him firmly. He then turned his attention back to the two time travellers. "For now I will settle with you referring to me in a respectable manner. I understand the current situation to be odd for you."

"Thank you. You are very thoughtful, _Sire_," the Doctor said, bowing slightly, though still suspicious of the Emperor's motives.

Shaddam IV smiled.

"I appreciate your respect, Doctor," he said. "Now tell me, what are you doing within my Empire?"

"Your Empire? Excuse me, Majesty," the Doctor said, "but how large is your empire exactly?"

"I rule seven galaxies. A million worlds. Ten quadrillion subjects," the Emperor replied, almost boastfully. "The near entirety of the Known Universe is mine. Though your world, which is clearly not within the Imperium, obviously does not fall under my dominion."

"You won't find my world anywhere in your universe, Emperor," the Doctor said.

The Emperor did not answer at first, trying to take in what the Doctor had just said.

"You mean to imply that you are from another universe? Is that what you are suggesting, Doctor?" he eventually asked, shocked at the further revelation he had seemingly received.

"True," said the Doctor. "But not just that. My world is gone, along with my race. Dead."

"So you are the last of your kind," the Emperor noted. "I am sorry for your loss, Doctor. How was it that your planet came to be destroyed?"

The Time Lord thought carefully on how much he should reveal to the Emperor, but he felt certain details of the Time War were innocent enough for the Imperium's ruler to know of. It was not that knowledge the Doctor feared Shaddam would use so troublesomely.

"There was a war," the Doctor began. "A very nasty war against a race known as the Daleks, though there were others involved. I-I…. I was required to result to desperate means to end it once and for all."

"It troubles you; I should not pry any further into this war," Shaddam said. "But what race are you of, Doctor?

"Time Lord," the Tenth Doctor said. "Gallifreyan to be precise, but we are commonly known as Time Lords to both others and ourselves."

"The name suggests your race held much power in your universe," noted the Emperor, intrigued.

"We did," the Doctor confirmed. "The pinnacle of civilisation across the cosmos; that was Gallifrey. Though as I said… no more now."

Shaddam IV leaned back on his huge throne, thinking to himself while tapping his fingers against one of the armrests.

"Is that why you are here then?" he suddenly asked, leaning forward. "You wish to seek refuge within the Imperium?"

"I seek refuge nowhere," the Doctor informed him firmly. "My concerns in this universe affect every universe in existence. I am here on a mission, Your Majesty."

"A mission?"

"Yes. Given to me by an extremely powerful being known as the White Guardian," the Doctor explained. "He foresaw a paradox forming within time itself; a paradox that threatens all creation if it ever comes into existence. My mission here, Your Highness, is to prevent that paradox from coming about."

"White Guardian?" said the Emperor, somewhat alarmed at the things the Time Lord had mentioned. "This being is prescient? Like a Steersman?"

"Steersman?"

"Excuse me, Doctor. I forget you are foreign to us," Shaddam IV said. "Guild Navigators, or Steersmen as they sometimes called, have a limited degree of prescience that they use to navigate ships through interstellar space."

"In that case, yes, but not exactly," the Doctor replied, deciding to pass over his intrigue with Guild Navigators till a later time. "The Guardian's view is far broader. He sees past, present and future as easily as I see this very chamber. He is timeless, and as much as I am at pains to admit it, entirely supernatural."

"A supernatural, timeless being?" the Emperor questioned in disbelief. "You expect me to believe that, Doctor?"

"Your Majesty, within my possession is a ship that you know just so happens to be bigger on the inside," the Doctor said. "Considering that, I would recommend that you take my word for a great many of things, Sire."

The Padishah Emperor turned to his left, looked down upon the beautiful blonde haired woman, who the Doctor had the noticed immediately upon his arrival. But what the Doctor now realised was that he had missed something very important about her. She had been staring at both he and Jamie rather oddly, almost studying them for some purpose all the time they had been before Shaddam IV. Now, as the Doctor realised before Shaddam spoke, she had been watching them for any sight of falsehood. She was a truthsayer.

"Can you confirm what he's said, Lady Margot?" Shaddam asked her. "Is our dear friend, the Doctor, telling the truth?"

"He and his companion have shown no sign of falsehood, my Lord," the blonde haired beauty replied. "The boy especially is exceptionally easy to read, and he has shown no disagreement to what the Doctor has told you. The Time Lord speaks truth, so far."

"Eh, yah've been reading me?" Jamie questioned, annoyed at the suggestion that the truthsayer had read him like a book. "How can yah possibly know whether I've been agreeing with the Doctor, when I ain't said anything?"

"The mind and body are intimately connected," the Lady Margot explained, though almost patronisingly so to the Highlander. "And the body exposes the mind, even when the mind does not will it. You, my dear, have believed everything the Doctor has so far said; that is easy enough to tell. I also know very well the thoughts you have been having about me, which I have to say is even easier to see."

Jamie went red at the accusation, before bursting out in protest, "What! I ain't- Yah cannot possibly know anything like that!"

"Um-um-um-hm-um my lady is correct, y-y-young m-man," the weaselish-faced man then spoke up, speaking extremely oddly. "Indeed, I cannot blame you for hm-hm your a-appreciation of her. T-There is nothing to be ashamed of, young man."

_It's an act_, the Doctor thought, after listening to the ugly man's words. _The way he speaks… it's an act. A sort of cloak to hide what lies beneath… and that is something not very pleasant._

"Enough Hasimir," Shaddam IV said to the weaselish looking man. "There are more important matters to discuss than the libido of the Doctor's companion."

"Hm-hm o-of course, my Lord," the strange man replied, bowing. "I do not mean to hm-hm displease you."

"Before we continue, Your Majesty," the Doctor then said. "You wouldn't mind if you could introduce your two friends to me and Jamie? I would appreciate it if I knew who they were."

"Yes, I see. Indeed, I should have done it earlier. I apologise, Doctor," the Emperor said, before looking upon the weak looking man and his beautiful partner once more. "This is my good friend, Count Hasimir Fenring, and his wife, the Lady Margot Fenring."

The Lady then curtsied briefly, while the Count said to the two time travellers, "A p-pleasure to meet you, Doctor. And you too, Jamie M-McCrimmon."

"Thank you, Count," said the Doctor. "Your manners are truly exquisite."

"So, now then, Doctor," Emperor Shaddam IV interjected, wanting to press on back to the original course of the conversation. "You say you are on a mission. A mission set to you by this White Guardian, in which you are essentially out to save the…. _Multiverse_ from this oncoming paradox. But what has stopping this paradox got to do with _my_ universe, Doctor?"

"Well-l-l-l-l, y' know, aside from being thrown in the depths of hell if it comes about," the Doctor said, "the paradox originates from this universe. An old friend of mine… well, he comes from this universe, and he's been quite involved in my life to such an extent I wouldn't be alive without him. If the paradox comes about, he'll never have been born, and thus I would have now long since been dead. And then there's a certain event that in the past I participated in, Majesty. It was on Skaro, where I delayed the rise of the Dalek race by a millennia; a race so powerful, so destructive, that they would have plunged every existing universe into utter hell if I had been unable to delay them. Therefore, as I think you can work out, Majesty, if the paradox comes into being I wouldn't have been able to thwart them."

"Great Mother!" Shaddam exclaimed, not quite believing that he was even having this conversation. "And it's these Daleks, you say, who fought that war against your own race, isn't it, Doctor?"

The Time Lord nodded. In response, Shaddam turned to the beautiful truthsayer once more.

"Truth, Your Majesty," Margot Fenring said, Shaddam not even needing to ask her to confirm the Doctor's words.

"All of it?"

"All of it."

"Very well," the Emperor said, turning back to the Time Lord. "Doctor, my guess is then you wish to find the parents of your friend, and ensure they conceive him?"

"That is correct, Sire," the Doctor confirmed.

"Then that would explain why you chose to come to the Imperial Palace," Shaddam said. "There is no man in the Known Universe more equip to find the two people you seek than I."

"I have to admit, Your Majesty, my arrival in your palace was merely coincidence. It very often is with the TARDIS," the Time Lord informed the Human Emperor. "But I would be extremely grateful of your assistance, Sire."

At first the Padishah Emperor did not respond, clearly deep in thought. Eventually however he smiled, then told the Time Lord, "Of course, Doctor. I would be more than happy to help you in any means I can."

"Thank-"

"However," the Emperor said, interrupting the Doctor, "I have a number of questions; a great many questions I have for you still."

"I am happy to answer any queries you may have, Majesty," the Doctor said, growing increasingly fearful of what the Emperor undoubtedly would now ask.

Shaddam Corrino IV grinned, then clicked his fingers twice. A moment later a set of doors opened to the left behind the throne, and pages bringing in a large blue box, that was most definitely familiar to the Doctor and Jamie, entered the room.

"It's the TARDIS, Doctor!" Jamie cried in delight.

_Yes, it's the TARDIS, Jamie_, the Time Lord thought in dread. _And now our dear Padishah Emperor will want to know all what she has to offer; and with that truthsayer of his, I fear he will get what he wants. Perhaps he won't ask, won't think of time travel being among the TARDIS's capabilities. But if he does… could that Margot tell if I was lying when if I answered no? She's confirmed everything I've said so far… but I've yet to tell the Emperor a lie. Still… it's not me who is most likely to be exposed. I could probably hide it from her; I have the control to do such a thing. No, if I lied, then it's Jamie who would most likely expose me. Could he suppress such subtleties that that Margot would detect? I don't know, though if a deity exists, I pray so._ _I truly do._

"Doctor," Shaddam IV began, studiously looking upon the Time Lord, as the pages placed the TARDIS a few metres away from the dais the dazzling throne rested on. "You can, of course, confirm this is your spacecraft?"

"Yes, that's mine, Sire," answered the Doctor.

"So then. This object, this _police box_, as I believe it translates as in Galach," the Emperor said, "travels not only through space, but its dimensions are also greater within?"

"As I confirmed earlier, that is true, Majesty," the Doctor confirmed. "And it seems some of your men are capable of testifying to the '_it's bigger on the inside_' bit themselves. Have you had a look yet yourself, Sire?"

"Unfortunately I am afraid not, Doctor," said the Padishah Emperor. "Still, moving on… earlier, when you mentioned the paradox, you said it would rewrite time if it came into being. So given this, time then, can be changed?"

_Oh no_, the Doctor thought in sheer dread, _he's going to ask it._ _It's inevitable…_

"Yes, Your Majesty," he affirmed.

Totally unsurprised, Shaddam IV smirked, said then, "Remarkable. Time travel is possible." He turned to Count Fenring. "Remarkable, isn't it, Hasimir?"

"Um-um-um-hm most incredible, Majesty," the Count said. "I would never have thought such a thing could be um-um t-true. Most incredible, i-i-indeed."

"Doctor," the Emperor Shaddam IV said, turning to the Doctor once more. "Your ship. Can it travel through time, as well as space?"

"No, Your Majesty," the Doctor said, putting all his mental effort in not giving any facial clue or any sign from his posture that he had just lied before the Emperor of the Known Universe. "It can only travel through space."

A few seconds passed, and the Doctor believed that the falsehood had gone unnoticed; Jamie, it seems, must have too been able to hide any shock or disagreement from the watching truthsayer, who had all this time been studiously watching them.

Unfortunately, the Time Lord was wrong.

"He lies, my Lord," Margot Fenring said, "though his control is truly immaculate. I have to admit, Your Grace, I would never have been able to tell if it wasn't for his companion. The boy remains as open as ever."

"I ain't said anything!" Jamie protested. "I ain't said anything!"

"Doctor, why is it you believed you could evade Lady Margot?" the Emperor calmly asked, showing no signs of anger or frustration at the fact that the Time Lord had lied. "And why is it that you lied to me?"

"Well, Your Majesty. Firstly, up until this point, all Lady Margot had done was confirm my truthfulness and decipher there was a bulge in Jamie's kilt," said the Doctor, utterly serious, not even showing amusement at the last remark. "There was not enough evidence to say whether she could catch me out if there was an occasion that I did not tell the truth; though by the fact she was unable to see any sign of falsehood on me, my reasons were hardly ungrounded. And secondly, it's for you own good, Majesty."

"For my own good?" the Emperor questioned, raising his voice, though still showed no sign of anger. "I'm sorry Doctor, but I do not understand."

"As a time traveller I'm bound by certain moral rules," the Doctor said. "And despite my experience, I've been known to break them; much to my regret. Emperor," he began, making it clear that this matter was something he took seriously beyond quantification, "time travel would be your _doom_. This society, your society, is not ready for such a thing. The damage that could be done if you had access to it is incalculable. Totally incalculable! I've seen it go wrong; I know what horrors can happen. Misuse of time travel could destroy your universe, and I cannot let you make such a mistake."

There was no reply at first, as the Emperor just sat in silence, eyes still focused upon the Doctor. He then turned, gave a nod to Count Fenring, who proceeded to venture up the tall dais, stopped before Shaddam IV. They conversed in whispers for a short time, until at last the weaselish-faced Count gave a nod, then walked away towards his original position.

"Doctor, we may resume this philosophical discussion another time," the Padishah Emperor said, focused on the Time Lord again. "Right now, I am need of a demonstration."

"A demonstration?" the Doctor inquired, extremely alarmed.

"Yes, a demonstration," the Emperor replied. "This TARDIS, as you call it; how does it travel through time and space?"

"It dematerialises from the location of origin, and travels via the time vortex to wherever I set the co-ordinates for," the Doctor said, reluctantly. "Though surely-"

"As I thought then," the Emperor said, cutting the Tenth Doctor off. "It materialises from one point to another. In that case then, would it be fair to say you could materialise it several metres to the right in the space of a minute?"

"Yes, certainly, but-"

"Excellent," the Emperor said, interrupting the Time Lord yet again. "Then you'll go ahead and do exactly that, won't you Doctor?"

For a moment, there was a silence. But then the Doctor made a decision that he knew would hardly enthral the Emperor, and if anything could totally enrage him.

"I _refuse_," the Doctor said.

"You refuse?" Shaddam questioned, almost in disbelief at the Time Lord's lack of compliance. "Why is that, Doctor?"

"Because if I do this, I know where it will lead," the Doctor replied, standing his ground. "I _refuse_."

The Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV, it was evident, was utterly shocked at the Doctor's answer, and did not respond at first. Then finally, he chuckled.

"I admire your integrity, as well as your courage," he said. "But a man as intelligent as yourself should not take this foolish path, Doctor."

"I _refuse_."

"Very well then, you leave me with but one choice," the Emperor said, before he threw a gesture at the Grand Bashar Tyekanik. "It seems you have reduced me to threats," he continued saying, as Tyekanik gave a nod, and two Sardaukar suddenly grabbed Jamie from behind. "If you do not comply with what I have requested of you, the boy will die."

"Don't do it, Doctor!" Jamie shouted defiantly, as he tried to fight off the Sardaukar in vain. "We cannot let him get control of the TARDIS!"

"I won't do it!" the Doctor cried, trying to still stand in defiance to the Emperor. "I won't perform a single function with the TARDIS while you hold us here!"

"Then we'll see now whether that's true then, Doctor," Shaddam IV said, eyes then falling upon the Grand Bashar, as one of the Sardaukar brought a knife to Jamie's throat. "Tyek, give the order for the boy to be killed. Do it **NOW**!"


	16. Reunited on Vermalia

"_A great many of things concerning our Lord, the Ascender, happened on that world known as Vermalia. Yes, a great many of things indeed."_

_-A Myekanian Account of the Multiversal War by Diderot Herzanikostanit_

**Grand Palace of the Imperium, Kaitain – 10,191 AG**

"Then we'll see now whether that's true then, Doctor," Shaddam IV said, eyes then falling upon the Grand Bashar, as one of the Sardaukar brought a knife to Jamie's throat. "Tyek, give the order for the boy to be killed. Do it **NOW**!"

"Wait!" the Doctor cried in panic, finally giving in, realising he could not allow Jamie be butchered by the Sardaukar. "Fine! Fine! I'll do it! I'll give you a demonstration!"

"You promise to do what I ask?" Shaddam IV said, making his demands clear. "And that in future you will be sure to obey any request I have of you, Doctor?"

"Yes! Just please let him go, he's done nothing to deserve this," the Doctor pleaded, submitting completely to the Emperor's orders to save his companion's life. "Sire, I beg of you, please."

"Then do what I have asked," the Emperor sternly informed him. "And I warn you Doctor; any attempt to escape with your ship will result in the boy's death. You have a minute, Doctor. A minute to perform what should be a simple task. Fail or disobey me, and you know the consequence."

Realising he had no choice to deviate from the Emperor's request, the Doctor walked towards the TARDIS, cursing Shaddam IV safely through his own thoughts as he went along. The Emperor was a megalomaniac; merely one of the endless many the Doctor had encountered, and yet another who yearned for the power of Gallifreyan time travel. Entering the TARDIS, the time traveller though regretfully had to admit that he was now under this very man's will, lest this maniacal Emperor was to bring about Jamie's death. And that was something the Doctor knew he would never be able to forgive himself for. So thus it was the nine hundred and six year old Time Lord now found himself at the mercy of Shaddam IV, though he hoped he could soon find a way out of the Emperor's influence.

_A way out before he gains the knowledge of time travel_, the Doctor reflected. _Otherwise this universe, Alistair's universe, will experience immense suffering like it has never seen before._

Seconds later, the TARDIS began to dematerialise, its wheezing and groaning echoing in the vast chamber in which the ship was currently positioned. It soon then vanished completely, and bar Jamie (who was well used to the TARDIS's method of travel) all those who had witnessed it were completely and utterly astonished at what they had seen. Emperor Shaddam IV knew that this would happen, but to actually see it before his own eyes was a different matter altogether. Where that _police box_ had been there was now an empty space; not a trace of evidence that a tall, large blue cuboid had stood there only a few seconds ago. His gaze then fell upon his dearest friend, Hasimir Fenring, who appeared as equally shocked as he was at what had just occurred. The Count's Lady too was clearly astonished, and Shaddam could not help but feel a twinge of delight at the Bene Gesserit witch's inability to currently hide her emotions. It seemed even the so 'highly' esteemed training of the Sisterhood had completely failed when brought against something so shocking.

It was then that those wheezing and groaning sounds of the time machine appeared once more, and the image of its police box guise started to reappear exactly where Shaddam had instructed. A loud thump ended the landing, the TARDIS now fully materialised several metres to the Emperor's left. Its doors opened, the Doctor exiting, seeing instantly the shocked expressions upon nearly person stood in the audience chamber. He grinned.

"Well then," he began, finding the astonishment of his captors deeply amusing. "You look as if you all were expecting nothing to happen. Perhaps you all thought the TARDIS would fly off and smash through a window, or that it would get sucked through a wormhole in the floor that would then consume every toothbrush in the galaxy. Though considering I confirmed that it materialised from point to another via the time vortex, then you couldn't have been expecting anything other than that, surely?"

"You have a performed as I have requested," Shaddam IV said, starting to regain his composure. "For that I thank you, Doctor."

"Your welcome, _Sire_."

"Release the boy," the Emperor then instructed directly to the two Sardaukar holding Jamie, who complied. Shaddam's attention then returned to the Doctor, telling him, "Doctor, I have most enjoyed this conversation, despite the unfortunate heated exchange we had towards its end. I apologise if I've hurt you in anyway, and I have no wish for such bitterness to be repeated."

"Oh, I hope so. I certainly hope so, Majesty," the Doctor said, remaining calm but letting his still seething anger be known about the incident.

"Rooms have already been prepared for both you and your friend, Doctor," Shaddam said. "Tyek will escort you to them imminently. I assume you also have many questions about the Imperium still, Doctor?"

"I do, Sire," the Time Lord simply answered.

"My eldest daughter, Irulan, will explain anything that both of you need know about the Imperium and its history, later today," Shaddam IV informed the two time travellers. "She may be only fifteen, but she is already one of the most accomplished historians in the Known Universe. A brilliant mind, who will have no trouble giving you a brief, but informative history of mankind."

"Thank you, Majesty," the Tenth Doctor replied. "I appreciate that you understand that me and Jamie have much to learn about your universe, and I look forward to meeting with such an outstanding individual."

"I will meet with you again in two days, Doctor," the Padishah Emperor said, followed then by some of the Sardaukar at guard by the throne starting to leave the room. Shaddam continued, "In the meantime you shall rest, and have the comforts of the palace provided to you and your companion, as any esteemed guests would. Once again, Doctor, thank you for this fascinating exchange, and I hope to have many more with you in the near future. Goodbye, my noble guest."

"Yes, goodbye, Your Majesty," the Doctor replied, before he and Jamie were forcibly turned around by Sardaukar, one of them ordering the two of them to proceed back down the chamber. The Emperor Shaddam IV watched as the two time travellers where escorted down the Imperial Audience Chamber once more, as more of those stood by the throne began to leave. He had greatly enjoyed the dialogue he had with the alien, though it seemed the Time Lord (as he had called himself) could prove quite uncooperative if he had the chance. Such disobedience would have to be dealt with, though the Doctor had given Shaddam enough idea on how to deal with such inappropriateness.

"Not you, Hasimir," Shaddam said to the genetic eunuch, after he had seen he and his Lady begin to leave.

The Count gave a nod to his wife, who then left the room with the exiting Sardaukar, leaving the two men stood alone. They waited in silence, until the opening and closing of the double-door at chamber's far end signalled Tyekanik and his men had left with the two captives. Both the Emperor and the Count were now truly alone in the audience chamber.

"Your thoughts, Count?" Shaddam asked his trusted minion.

"The Doctor is a man of principle, if that is he should be called a man," the Count said, dropping the bizarre speech he had used in front of the Time Lord and his companion. "He has no malevolent intentions for the Imperium, and if anything seems to care for its well-being. He is also strong willed, though as we have both witnessed, this strength of the will makes him disobedient in particular circumstances."

"_Indeed, yes_," Shaddam IV said, indicating he very strongly agreed with the Count's last sentence.

"We do however have leverage over him," Count Fenring continued. "He cares strongly for his companion, and he yielded when he was threatened that this companion would die if he remained incompliant. Providing we retain such influence over the life of the boy, the Doctor should be able to be brought under our control."

"You share my thoughts completely on the Doctor it seems, Hasimir," Shaddam Corrino IV said, rising from the Golden Lion Throne. "We'll resume our discussions with the alien in two days time; when Mohiam has returned from that accursed planet from which all her Bene Gesserit kind seem to spawn. Then we can decide on how we'll deal with this Time Lord."

**Foothills of the Arbarian Mountains, Delmatia, Vermalia**

Captain Lethbridge-Stewart had been travelling for several minutes when heard the sounds of gunshots faintly behind him. Releasing the safety on his MP5, the Captain turned, trying to trace where the shots had come from. He then began to travel back up the hill from where he came, before he turned south and came to the edge of a cliff, as the sounds of gunfire grew louder, indicating the presence of the shooters drew near. A weird buzzing noise then could be heard, before round the cliff came a strange looking vehicle; appearing to be a snowmobile, though it had no wheels, and seemingly hovered a foot above the ground. Its driver wore a fur coat, and drove the vehicle fast across the small snow covered valley. Moments later, another of the strange snow vehicles raced around the corner; containing a driver and a passenger, the latter of whom was armed with what appeared to be a submachine gun. The two men were clearly in pursuit of the leading vehicle, and the passenger of the pursuing snowmobile fired several rounds at the vehicle up ahead, though none hit the target due to the almost unpredictable evasions of the fleeing driver. The pursued man then returned fire with two shots from his pistol, as the passenger of the trailing snowmobile continued to let off more rounds.

Suddenly then, a shot of the pursuing gunman hit the leading driver, who moments later fell of his vehicle; the strange snowmobile then crashing into a mound of snow.

And then it happened.

If the Captain had been asked to explain the cognition that brought about the action, the best he could say is that is was an almost ineffable instinctual urge, that was too strong and quick to even hope to resist. For upon seeing the fleeing driver's crash, Gordon aimed then fired off several rounds from his MP5 at the pursuing men. Despite being at nearly at the peak of the submachine gun's range, every shot had it on target (a testament to the Captain's marksmanship that had been honed in both the SAS and UNIT); the passenger falling from the vehicle, while the driver slumped forward in his seat before the snowmobile smashed into the nearby cliff, culminating in an explosion that undoubtedly killed him if he was not dead already.

The Captain was stunned, glancing at his gun in disbelief at what happened, though he himself did not even what had fully occurred. Looking again out at the valley, he saw smoke billowing from the remains of the pursuing snowmobile, though he struggled to see if there was any trace of its driver left. The corpse of the vehicle's passenger however was clearly visible, lying just over fifty feet away from where the epicentre of the previous explosion had occurred. Both men were dead, and Gordon realised he had now had got involved in something he had total ignorance of; a dispute between the fleeing man and his pursuers on a world that the Captain had only just set foot upon.

_Damn it! God damn it!_ he cursed himself. _What the hell was that about, Gordon, you fucking idiot? What- What did I just do?_

He could find no reason to his actions other than that irresistible instinct that had so briefly seized him, which he simply could not explain. But that thing, whatever it had been, could be worried about later. Right now it seemed his actions had forced him to take sides in the dispute, and the only thing he could do next was to see whether the fleeing man was ok. And perhaps he would explain the situation that Gordon was now a part of.

_Maybe he isn't the more innocent party in this matter_, Gordon thought, _but what choice do I have? For now I have to take the risk, and deal with the consequences later. I'm certainly no friend of the men I killed or their associates right now._

It took several minutes for Captain Lethbridge-Stewart to find his way down the cliff and reach the pursued man, who for the most part looked fine. He was staggering up from the ground, holding his bleeding thigh where the bullet had struck, not even noticing the approaching UNIT captain. That changed however once Gordon spoke.

"Excuse me, Sir. Are you ok?" the Captain asked.

The wounded man stood motionless for a moment after hearing Gordon's words, before he then suddenly turned and brought his pistol upon the young captain. Gordon however was ready for him, and levelled his MP5 upon him at the same moment.

"Don't be a fool. Put the gun down," Captain Lethbridge-Stewart warned.

"You think I'm stupid, kid?" the man responded. "I don't have a clue as to who you are and what you want. This projectile weapon is staying aimed exactly where it is."

"I'm not here to hurt you," Gordon said. "If I was, then why didn't I just leave you to those men who were after you?"

"Perhaps you have a problem with them too," the man said. "The Ancient Brethren have pissed off a lot of people in their time, and funnily enough, so have I. You could be out here to go after the both of us."

"If that was the case I would have let them kill you first," the Captain replied, continuing to argue that his intentions were good. "They would have been at a much closer range than where I shot at them. And besides, if I wanted you dead then I could have killed you long before now. Trust me, please; this standoff isn't doing either us much good."

The man said nothing at first, only staring suspiciously at Gordon, wondering whether to trust to him. Eventually he said, "Fine, I'll bring down my weapon. That is, if you do the same with yours."

"Fine," Gordon said, nodding. "After three then… one, two, three."

The two men slowly brought their guns down at the count's end, though both still remained wary of the other. Gordon observed the stranger, though was unable to make him out completely due to the man's hooded fur coat; he was average in height, though quite well built, with a tanned, square face and blue eyes. Of much significance was that the man looked completely human, though the Captain knew well that there were alien races that appeared outwardly indistinguishable from humans; the Time Lords merely one example of them. Gordon sensed something strange about the man, though nothing in his demeanour suggested that he was malevolent. For now it seemed the stranger could be trusted.

"Who are you?" the man then questioned. "And how did you know about the static?"

"Captain Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart," the UNIT officer answered. "And I'm sorry, but what do you mean by _the static_?"

"Shields don't work up around here," the man explained. "There's electrostatic interference from Mount Arbaria that prevents them from working. Though surely you know this?"

"Afraid I don't," Gordon responded.

"Then why do you have a projectile weapon on you? Nobody uses firearms in this day and age."

"Well, um- I afraid I-um didn't know that about guns, either," Gordon struggled.

The fur-clad man paused briefly, somewhat stunned at the Captain's answer.

"Who are you?" he asked sternly, his suspicions growing once more.

"You've already asked that."

"I mean I want you to explain fully who you are," the man said. "What person in the Imperium claims not to know about Holtzmann shields?"

"I, um," Gordon struggled, unsure how to answer such an awkward question. The answer was simple; he was not from the _Imperium_ that this strange man referred to. That he was in fact from a parallel Earth thousands of years in the past. But would the stranger even vaguely believe such a thing? No. Therefore he lied.

"This, this, is going to be difficult to believe," the Captain began, trying to sound unsure to make the coming lie more credible. "But, I, I've lost much of my memory."

"What?" the wounded stranger exclaimed, utterly thrown by Gordon's words. "What?"

"It's true, I can barely remember-"

"Don't bother, pup," the man said. "There's no way I'm going to swallow that shit. No way at all. Perhaps you aren't out to kill me now, but it's clear there have been lies amongst your words. You want something clearly, and whatever it is won't bode well for me. In which case…."

And with that said, the fur-clad figure levelled his pistol at Gordon once more, though the UNIT captain was ready for him again, his own gun fixed upon the stranger.

"Who are you?" the stranger asked again. "Tell me now."

"You forget that I have my own gun pointed at you," Gordon told him. "Asking such questions when you have no advantage is fruitless."

"Just tell me who you are, kid," the man demanded. "If you got nothing to hide then tell me."

"I could tell you," Gordon said, sounding somewhat hesitant. "But you'd never believe me."

"I don't give a damn," the stranger said, raising his voice, growing tired of the Captain evading the question. "Explain who are you and what you're-"

"I think that's quite enough," said a voice, which seemed to have come from the nearby mound of snow the pursued man's vehicle had crashed into, words directed at the stranger. "Put the gun down, you're surrounded."

Gordon turned his gaze slightly towards the mound that lay behind the wounded stranger, wondering who was it that had spoke, though kept his MP5 still remained on the pursued man. A tall, grey haired, old man dressed in an officer's uniform of the British Army emerged from behind the mound, with his Webley revolver aimed at the wounded stranger. Captain Lethbridge-Stewart recognised the man immediately, and would have ran over to him in delight had he not the pursued stranger to worry about. The old man was someone Gordon loved beyond quantification.

"Grandad!" Gordon cried, with a beaming smile. "You're here, granddad!"

"Yes, I am, Gordon," the Brigadier replied, smiling though appeared calmer than his grandson at that moment. "And I see you're in a spot of bother."


End file.
